The 'burbs of Beijing
This is made of the skin of baby water buffalo,' says saleswoman Linda Du, running her fingers over a light grey, upholstered leather square, one of dozens that make up a living room wall in a new apartment complex just off Beijing's main artery, Chang'an Avenue. 'Each square is one piece. And we have 60 pieces in this apartment. Maybe the animal protection people will complain,' she says with an apologetic laugh.
Du's concern for the water buffalo calves is unusual: embarrassment is a rare creature in the mainland's new world of high-end living. After decades of enforced poverty and egalitarianism, society is stratifying faster than it takes a coat of lacquer on a faux imperial pillar to dry - and the nut-brown pillars in the Dynasty Unit of Du's complex, Royal Palace, have 17 coats that took 18 months. Awash with cash and hungry for the high life, mainland buyers are snapping up new villas and apartments in China's biggest cities, many built with the international expatriate market in mind.
The property wave is dizzying. According to government figures, more than 97,000 villas and luxury apartments were built nationwide in 2002, which was a 35 per cent increase on the previous year. About 10 per cent were in Beijing. Beijing Century Sun, developer of new apartment complex Palm Springs, says it sold 60 in the first week for a total of RMB108 million (about HK$100 million).
On the surface, what the new rich are buying is bricks and mortar - or high-varnish parquet and rose quartz-inlaid walnut wall panels. But what they're really buying is lifestyle. Preferably American. The names say it all: Palm Springs, Upper East Side, Villa Yosemite, Golf Palace, Park Avenue, Chateau Regalia and Beijing Riviera. The fully kitted-out interiors reflect an idealised version of life in California, Milan or Paris. For China's new rich, living in Beijing today is all about pretending you're somewhere else. 'A lot of people who come to see these apartments say it's not like living in China, it's like living abroad,' says Du, without a hint of irony.
At Upper East Side, in Beijing's northeast, a sculpture of a horse-drawn carriage evokes the buggies that carry tourists around Central Park, even as China's modernisation means its own horse- or donkey-drawn carts, a common sight 10 years ago, are disappearing from cities. Shandong-based Lu Neng power company, developer of Villa Yosemite, created a Beijing version of famous geyser Old Faithful when it dug 2,998 metres under its clubhouse to tap into a hot spring that pipes 75-degrees Celsius spring water into the Jacuzzi in each master bathroom. Lu Neng says it invested RMB5 billion in the 59-hectare complex - approximately the size of 59 football pitches.
Yosemite is the latest addition to Beijing's north-east, standing near the international airport and a manageable 40-minute run into town. Since 1992, when the first villas rose out of the dry, suburban soil, the area has become a staple for expatriates, who like its three international schools, relatively clean air and low population density. But where foreigners rent, often from a management company, with a villa costing US$3,000 to $6,000 (HK$24,000 to $45,000) a month, many Chinese are buying.