This week I decided it was time to look for a home in Beijing, with final registration of EASTWEST confirmed and awareness on my part that my insanity will be postponed by some separation between my personal and work space. I hadn’t realised that quietly in the background Judy was continuing to process the Company registration, while I pursue the local sales leads that are starting to come in. The Construction Bank of China has transferred our US$15,000 into Chinese Yuan, a surprise to me as I didn’t recall signing the forms. Judy revealed a blue plastic box in which are a series of Chops, or stamps, including one for my Chinese name – this she had used to commission the currency exchange. Delighted with the progress I was also slightly alarmed that possession of this 1.5cm2 plastic chop could enable someone to act as my proxy at the bank. I saw Judy with a batch of gold embossed certificates, which apparently signify our full registration as a company. I have asked Judy to translate and catalogue these. Such is the nature of both Ben and Judy that instead of updating me as a matter of course, I have to ask specific questions which means remembering all the things that I have commissioned them to do. I believe that I am not alone in this, and asked myself if it is a lack of initiative or if I am unapproachable. Being unapproachable is part of the Chinese management style and is expected though disliked, according to Illana the young property agent at Joanna Real Estate. “Joanna controls everything,” confided the bespectacled 23 year old, who took me to view apartments in Beijing. “She is very rich but she is always shouting and fighting people, she still checks people’s email even though we have 200 agents”she continued, “her family are in positions of control in the company, it’s the Chinese way but it is not any good for us workers.” Joanna, and business owners like her, have become wealthy using the authoritarian model of management which is debilitating the young and preventing them from taking initiative; entrepreneurs have replaced the Party with their control and intrusions. 
These entrepreneurs have put their wealth into property, but the housing stock that I saw was all flawed in one manner or another. Renting a 100m2 apartment considered ‘appropriate’ for foreigners inside the 3rd ringroad starts at RMB8,000 (US$1,000), with the same price for 30% more space just outside to the east or to the south. Of the 10 apartments I have seen with suggestive names like Seasons Park, Central Park and Global Trade Mansions I am trying to decide which is the most important aspect of my new home; avoiding pile drivers that make the floor shake like elephants at the door, interior decor that doesn’t look like the Parthenon or escaping the views of half finished buildings, their sunken window sockets staring into space like the open eyes of a dead man. “I think prices will fall by 50% after the Olympics,” said Illana, as I quizzed her on the merits of buying a property instead of renting, and it became clear that there is a strange phenomenon taking place. I enquired of an enthusiastic investment speculator how long his dust covered apartment had been vacant, “12 months because my parents didn’t come to Beijing,” he replied. The same story of long voids was true of 8 of the 10 apartments I saw, and Illana told me that 3 month voids were normal. According to Illana, the places I saw were purchased two to three years ago on average at RMB15,000m2 (US$1,875m2) or RMB1,500,000 (US$187,500) and were renting for some RMB96,000 (US$12,000) per year. Landlords are aparently quite inflexible in their demands for the rent, but this doesn’t tally for me with the duration of the voids and relatively low yields, and am curious to what extent Illana’s advice is a function of the strength of the market or the commission that will fund Joanna’s own apparently extensive property portfolio. I left looking at new places behind on Sunday as I ran 11 miles due east along the green and steaming canal, in search of fresh air, and saw quickly just how thinly the wealth is being spread across the Capital. At 4 miles I passed a huge new complex of apartments fronted by a hoarding showing a photo of New York’s Central park, with people sitting out sunbathing on green grass below an azure sky. In between the hoarding and the shiny steel and green glass edifice was a churned wasteland covered with plastic debris and construction materials, guarded by green uniformed boys who shouted at an old man on a bike for attempting to cross the Somme-like field. Running on and out to the suburbs along the canal side I had to avoid what I thought was dog excrement, until I realised that none of the dogs I saw were big enough to create such hurdles and saw a man pulling up his drawers. Kids played cards on wooden boxes and the eyes of an old man sitting erect in a blue Mao suit didn’t flicker as I ran by, his gaze focused across the canal as if recalling a time when dignity mattered more than money. At 11 miles I turned back to Beijing, my lungs hating the inhalation of bitter air that grew thicker the closer I drew to town. I saw several huge developments a long way from the centre of town but certainly the people living down by the canal would not be able to afford these, and wondered how and when these would be occupied. It is easy to forget when living inside the 3rd ringroad that China is essentially third world in the distribution of its income. For the young people to be able to afford these new homes in the future they will surely have to grow from under the authoritarian regimes at work, and with this economic liberation will ultimately come expression of opinion. I made the 20 plus miles back to SOHO in 3:15, pleased with my time but still not feeling as though I had arrived home.
These entrepreneurs have put their wealth into property, but the housing stock that I saw was all flawed in one manner or another. Renting a 100m2 apartment considered ‘appropriate’ for foreigners inside the 3rd ringroad starts at RMB8,000 (US$1,000), with the same price for 30% more space just outside to the east or to the south. Of the 10 apartments I have seen with suggestive names like Seasons Park, Central Park and Global Trade Mansions I am trying to decide which is the most important aspect of my new home; avoiding pile drivers that make the floor shake like elephants at the door, interior decor that doesn’t look like the Parthenon or escaping the views of half finished buildings, their sunken window sockets staring into space like the open eyes of a dead man. “I think prices will fall by 50% after the Olympics,” said Illana, as I quizzed her on the merits of buying a property instead of renting, and it became clear that there is a strange phenomenon taking place. I enquired of an enthusiastic investment speculator how long his dust covered apartment had been vacant, “12 months because my parents didn’t come to Beijing,” he replied. The same story of long voids was true of 8 of the 10 apartments I saw, and Illana told me that 3 month voids were normal. According to Illana, the places I saw were purchased two to three years ago on average at RMB15,000m2 (US$1,875m2) or RMB1,500,000 (US$187,500) and were renting for some RMB96,000 (US$12,000) per year. Landlords are aparently quite inflexible in their demands for the rent, but this doesn’t tally for me with the duration of the voids and relatively low yields, and am curious to what extent Illana’s advice is a function of the strength of the market or the commission that will fund Joanna’s own apparently extensive property portfolio. I left looking at new places behind on Sunday as I ran 11 miles due east along the green and steaming canal, in search of fresh air, and saw quickly just how thinly the wealth is being spread across the Capital. At 4 miles I passed a huge new complex of apartments fronted by a hoarding showing a photo of New York’s Central park, with people sitting out sunbathing on green grass below an azure sky. In between the hoarding and the shiny steel and green glass edifice was a churned wasteland covered with plastic debris and construction materials, guarded by green uniformed boys who shouted at an old man on a bike for attempting to cross the Somme-like field. Running on and out to the suburbs along the canal side I had to avoid what I thought was dog excrement, until I realised that none of the dogs I saw were big enough to create such hurdles and saw a man pulling up his drawers. Kids played cards on wooden boxes and the eyes of an old man sitting erect in a blue Mao suit didn’t flicker as I ran by, his gaze focused across the canal as if recalling a time when dignity mattered more than money. At 11 miles I turned back to Beijing, my lungs hating the inhalation of bitter air that grew thicker the closer I drew to town. I saw several huge developments a long way from the centre of town but certainly the people living down by the canal would not be able to afford these, and wondered how and when these would be occupied. It is easy to forget when living inside the 3rd ringroad that China is essentially third world in the distribution of its income. For the young people to be able to afford these new homes in the future they will surely have to grow from under the authoritarian regimes at work, and with this economic liberation will ultimately come expression of opinion. I made the 20 plus miles back to SOHO in 3:15, pleased with my time but still not feeling as though I had arrived home.