In big cities such as Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou, surging real estate prices are seriously troubling the younger generation. The question of housing impedes their ability to love and follow their dreams, and it is dramatically changing their philosophies and values, according to a Beijing Evening News report on August 12.

Competing priorities: love vs. security

One night in May 2007, 27-year-old Li Tong called her best female friends to announce she had just gotten married that day. The impassive, bashful words shocked her friends, who couldn’t help asking, “But to whom?”

She married a Guangzhou native whose parents had already prepared a house for him. “We’ve known each other for five months, long enough to decide on marriage.” However, Li Tong was reluctant to talk about her new husband with her friends. They were sure she wouldn’t have married him so quickly if it weren’t for that house, no matter how deep she claimed their love was.

Love has become vulnerable in the face of skyrocketing housing prices, in front of which love often retreats, particularly in larger cities. The cost of real estate is like a sieve, separating the men who cannot afford houses out of the marriage pool and leaving them with few options.

Li Guogang is one of these men. He works with a public institution in Hangzhou, and his meager income is only enough to feed himself. He told China Youth Daily, “When I first got the job, I was thinking that two months’ salary can buy one square meter. But now, I don’t even think about buying a house.” Li comes from a rural area, so his parents cannot afford the initial payment for him. Even if they could, his salary is still not enough for the monthly installments.

He is self-deprecating, explaining that he is a man with no house and no farmland, so how could a man without a career or home talk about love? He feels that girls today are getting increasingly materialistic, putting their trust in houses instead of love. So, Li refuses blind dates and has no intent to date anyone at present.

Dashed dreams of city living

Zhang Ze comes from the countryside in northeastern China. After studying broadcasting and hosting in a vocational college, he came to Beijing to pursue a career. Before departure, he promised his mother that he would buy a big house in Beijing so that she could live an easy life in the capital. “Urge the kids to study hard so they can earn their college degrees in Beijing,” he said to his two sisters, who pooled their resources to prepare several months’ living expenses for him.

After arriving in Beijing, Zhang realized that he still had a long way to go in order to make his dream a reality. The competition in media was fiercer than he had expected, and he found it difficult to find a job. Finally, one of his distant relatives recommended him to a TV station and he got a job on the crew; however, one month’s hard work could give him a salary of no more than 3,000 yuan. Years later, he met a girl named Lele. They got married and moved into a low-rent apartment in the southern part of Beijing. One year later they had a baby, and his wife had to resign to take care of their little son, leaving Zhang to support the whole family by himself.

Then the government began demolishing old buildings in southern Beijing, and they were forced to move six times over the course of just a few years. Each time they moved they were farther from downtown, but the rent continued to climb. Their monthly savings in the bank couldn’t keep up with the soaring housing prices. His dream of settling in Beijing had been shattered.

When Zhang took his family back to his hometown to celebrate the Spring Festival, he found most of his classmates who stayed there were well established and lived a far more decent life than he did in Beijing. It was not until then that Zhang finally gave up his dream.

Is owning a house really that important? “Absolutely,” Zhang answered without hesitation, “Now I’ve got a wife and a boy. If we want to have a home in the real sense, a house of our own is the last step to go.”

Difficult choices: house or social life?

Zhang Yangyang, a single girl in Beijing, began her frugal life after buying a small home. She was forced to set rules for herself: No more new clothes, no parties, less shopping, and stay at home more. “Sleeping is the most provident activity!” she exclaimed.

Zhang cut herself off from the newly opened fancy restaurants, KTV, and bars. She chose a smaller, less expensive hairdresser and used cosmetics sold in supermarkets instead of brand names. Once, she couldn’t stand the temptation and bought a 350-yuan eye shadow on impulse. “I regretted it immediately and felt so guilty! Then I forced a friend to buy it before opening the package. I never expected that my living standard would drop by such a large margin after buying the house!”

“Before buying the house, I earned 4,000 yuan a month and spent most of it on things which turned out to be useless. Now at least one third of my salary is spent on the housing installment. Since I know where the money has gone, I feel more settled.”

Zhang rides a bicycle to work every day, and considers it to be the best sport. “My efforts cannot match the possibilities the society has presented us. Now with the time I used to spend entertaining, I’m studying a second foreign language and reading books for work. I must work hard and grasp every opportunity to get a promotion and a pay raise. I hope to complete my installment in advance.”

“I hate to be called a ‘house slave.’ Things can be viewed from different perspectives. I am not only the slave of the house, but also its owner. Why do people focus only on my tragic role?” Zhang is very ambitious. She spends her spare time reading law books, and is preparing to attend the committee of the owners once moving in, to fight for more rights and interests for herself.

(China.org.cn by Lu Lu August 14, 2007)