Rear View: Home is the Hunter

Rear View takes a jocular look at some of the experiences that make Beijing such a fun place to live (if they don't break you first).

Our suspicions are first aroused when we are ushered into the elevator.

“But Mr. Yan,” we protest, “I thought the apartment was on the first floor.”

“No, it’s on the 20th floor,” he explains, “but 20 is an unlucky number here.”

“Is it?” we ask. “We thought that was four.”

“Oh yes, four as well,” he says. “In fact most of the numbers from two to 19 are unlucky in one way or another.”

A glance at the buttons on the elevator confirms that all the floors except the eighth are labeled “1.”

“Isn’t that confusing?”

“Oh, yes, very,” he assures us with a smile. “But better to be confused than unlucky, wouldn’t you agree?”

We emerge onto a landing, and look through a dingy window onto endless anonymous apartment blocks.

“Your advertisement said it was near CBD and Sanlitun.” we say.

“So it is.” Mr. Yan points out of the window. “That’s the CBD right there; the Central Baozi District. More steamed buns per mile than any other part of Beijing.”

“And Sanlitun?”

“That’s the name of my dog. He’s chained up outside.”

“And you said it was handy for the subway – wait a minute. That’s Subway, isn’t it?”

“Now you’re getting the idea.” Mr. Yan slaps us on the shoulder. “Don’t you just love their Meatball Marinara?”

He pushes open a steel door, and enters the apartment. We try to enter behind him. “One-hundred and fifty square meters, you said?”

“That’s right. We keep them in a cupboard over there. They’re two dimensional, you see, so it’s more convenient to stack them up, rather than have them spread all over the floor. And over here is the washing machine ...”

“That’s a sink.”

“And the bed.”

“That’s an ironing board.”

“I like you, you’re observant.” Mr Yan smiles. “Now, sign here. Nothing important, just a formality.”

“Is that the inventory?” we ask.

Mr. Yan hurriedly conceals the document behind his back, but after an undignified struggle, we manage to wrestle it from his grip.

“I don’t recall seeing the Fabergé eggs you’ve listed here. Are they in the cupboard too?”

We open a door, then quickly close it again.

“There appears to be a family of migrant workers living under the sink.”

“Oh yes, don’t mind them,” Mr. Yan says. “They’re very quiet. Really nice people.”

“Mr. Yan,” we ask, “do you have any idea why Beijing landlords have such a terrible reputation?”

“I don’t know,” Mr. Yan says sadly. “After all, as the Great Helmsman said, ‘the generosity and excellent accommodation of the landlord class have made them beloved throughout society’.”

“That’s not the quote as we remember it,” we tell him, but Mr. Yan is unconcerned.

“Sometimes,” he says, “even timeless wisdom needs to be brought up to date.”

Photo: SCMP