Divorce

By He Na

China's divorce rate has risen sharply in recent years, ringing alarm bells across a nation that attaches great importance to family harmony.

Data from the Ministry of Civil Affairs shows that 2.87 million couples divorced in 2011, a rise of 7.3 percent from 2010.

The new housing policies have sparked concerns, because many couples have tried to evade them by getting divorced but continuing to live together, and buying property as single people rather than as a couple.

Chu Zhiwei, 40, a landscape designer at a real estate company in Beijing, said she'd read reports about "fake divorces" many times. Usually, she would raise her an eyebrow and laugh at these "pragmatic" people, and she certainly didn't imagine that one day she would almost join the fake divorce army.

Chu and her husband own two apartments in the capital, one of them in the Guomao Central Business District, which is near her office.

However, for the sake of their son's education, they planned to buy another home in the Taiyanggong area, close to a middle school noted for its high enrollment rate to elite universities.

Zhang and husband Wang Gang have stable jobs and some savings, but they still can't afford to pay cash for the 70,000 yuan-per-square-meter apartment they plan to buy.

China's banks have already ceased to provide mortgage facilities for people looking to buy a third home, so Chu had no alternative but to work out the divorce plan. Her husband was against the idea initially, but faced with his wife's insistence, he consented to the plan.

The new house price control policies were implemented just as the couple discussed the content of their divorce agreement. The measures proved a killer blow.

"We chose to wait in the hope the new policies might cool the market and lead to lower prices. But who knew the authorities would introduce a new rule banning single adults with a permanent Beijing residence registration (known as hukou) from buying a second home?" said Chu.

"The two houses are registered to both of us. Now even if we divorce, we still won't qualify to buy. We should have done it earlier," she said, regretfully.

Chu was very sad, but Wang happily tore up the divorce papers. He admitted that suddenly he felt very relaxed.

"I think the middle school close to our home is good enough. It's really not necessary to buy an old house at a scary price just to get our son into a certain school. He didn't know about the divorce plan and we are going to keep it a secret from him," he said.

No qualifications

By Peng Yining

When he heard about the new regulations in early March, Qiu Hu, a 26-year-old salesman originally from Heilongjiang province, abandoned his dream of owning property in Beijing, the city he has worked in for five years.

"In my opinion, the new regulations are generally making it harder to buy property, because buyers will eventually pay most of the extra taxes," he said. "The measures might curb prices over the long term, but I can't wait because I got married this year."

According to Chinese tradition, the husband is responsible for providing a home for the family. A week before Beijing launched the new regulations at the end of March, Qiu bought a two-bedroom apartment in Yanjiao, Hebei province.

"It is right on the border of Beijing and Hebei," he said. "It is like the Beijing suburbs, only further out."

Although the area borders the capital, different polices are in place; unlike Beijing, purchasing a property doesn't require a local hukou. For most beipiao, or Beijing drifters - people such as Qiu, who work in the capital but don't have hukou or own property - have turned to "border" areas such as Yanjiao.

There are fewer restrictions in Yanjiao and property prices are lower, but the costs mount up in other ways. It takes 60 minutes for Qiu to drive to work, even in the best traffic conditions. "And also I feel lost," he said. "Once you cross the border, it's not Beijing anymore, and everything is different."

Qiu said the infrastructure and educational resources also lag behind those in the capital. "Even the heating is switched off a few days earlier than in Beijing," he said. Text messages sent by the local telecom carriers continually remind him he is not in the capital. "Every time I get home, a message pops up saying 'Welcome to Hebei!' Many young people dream of living in a big city and becoming successful, but this is the moment the dream gets busted."

He had planned to sell his apartment in Yanjiao a few years after purchase and use the proceeds to buy an apartment in the city, but as the new regulations have imposed stricter rules on the sale of second-hand houses, Qiu said his back-up plan doesn't seem practical anymore.

"I am going to wait," he said. "Maybe they will change the policy again. Who knows?"