Alan Li no longer sees any future for his family in China after harsh COVID rules decimated his business, upended his son’s education and left his country out of step with the rest of the world.
He has given up hope of a return to normal after months of lockdowns in Shanghai, and now plans to close his firm and move to Hungary, where he sees better opportunities and his 13-year-old son can attend an international school.
“Our losses this year mean that it’s over for us,” he said wearily, asking to withhold his real name.
Photo: AFP
“We have been using our own cash savings to pay 400 workers (during the lockdown). What if it happens again this winter?”
Shanghai’s long shutdown, which brought food shortages and protests, has driven some to reconsider staying in a country where livelihoods and lifestyles can vanish at the whim of the state.
Schools have been closed and exams called off, including assessments for applying to American universities.
Photo: AFP
Li is frustrated that his son’s expensive bilingual schooling has been mostly online for two years, and he is anxious about the way Beijing has tightened oversight of the curriculum.
“This is a waste of our children’s youth,” Li said.
Being fairly well off, he has been able to take advantage of a European investment scheme that grants him and his family residency in Budapest.
“Many people know that if they sold all their assets they could ‘lie flat’ in a European country,” he said, using a slang phrase meaning to take it easy.
Beijing-based immigration consultant Guo Shize said his company has seen an explosion of inquiries since March, including a threefold increase in Shanghai clients.
Even after the lockdown eased, requests continued flooding in at more than double the usual level.
“Once that spark has been lit in people’s minds, it doesn’t die down quickly,” he said.
EXIT BAN
Censors have sought to suppress discussion of emigration, prompting nimble internet users to adopt the term “run” instead.
Searches for the term on messaging app WeChat peaked during Shanghai’s shutdown.
But as more people consider ways to leave, Beijing has doubled down on strict exit policies for Chinese citizens.
All “unnecessary” travel out of the country has been banned. Passport renewals have been all but halted, with authorities blaming the risk of COVID being carried into the country.
In the first half of last year, immigration authorities issued only two percent of the passports given out in the same period in 2019.
One woman who emigrated to Germany said she receives dozens of messages from Chinese people looking for tips on escaping.
Emily, who did not want to use her real name, tried to help a relative obtain a new passport to take up a job in Europe, but the application was denied.
“It’s like being a child who wants to go to their friend’s house to play but their parents won’t let them leave,” she said, adding that she has heard of passports being sold for up to 30,000 yuan (US$4,500) on the black market.
‘ABSOLUTELY INSANE’
A Chinese freelancer said he was turned back by immigration officers while attempting to fly to Turkey for work last October, despite having already checked in.
“My itinerary sounded too suspicious to them. They took my passport into an office and 15 minutes later told me I do not meet the requirements” for leaving, he said on condition of anonymity. “It was absolutely insane.”
He managed to leave weeks later by entering semi-autonomous Macau on a different travel document, before catching an onward flight.
Some are disillusioned with Beijing’s growing controls, which have been ramped up during the pandemic.
“I just want to live in a country where the government won’t crudely interfere in my personal life,” said Lucy, a 20-year-old student at an elite Beijing university involved in LGBTQ and Marxist activism.
The virus policies had “allowed the government to control and monitor everything”, she said.
“Perhaps rather than accepting and adapting to this system, we must go elsewhere and create a new life.”
By far the most jarring of the new appointments for the incoming administration is that of Tseng Wen-tsan (鄭文燦) to head the Straits Exchange Foundation (SEF). That is a huge demotion for one of the most powerful figures in the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). Tseng has one of the most impressive resumes in the party. He was very active during the Wild Lily Movement and his generation is now the one taking power. He has served in many of the requisite government, party and elected positions to build out a solid political profile. Elected as mayor of Taoyuan as part of the
Moritz Mieg, 22, lay face down in the rubble, the ground shaking violently beneath him. Boulders crashed down around him, some stones hitting his back. “I just hoped that it would be one big hit and over, because I did not want to be hit nearly to death and then have to slowly die,” the student from Germany tells Taipei Times. MORNING WALK Early on April 3, Mieg set out on a scenic hike through Taroko Gorge in Hualien County (花蓮). It was a fine day for it. Little did he know that the complex intersection of tectonic plates Taiwan sits
May 6 to May 12 Those who follow the Chinese-language news may have noticed the usage of the term zhuge (豬哥, literally ‘pig brother,’ a male pig raised for breeding purposes) in reports concerning the ongoing #Metoo scandal in the entertainment industry. The term’s modern connotations can range from womanizer or lecher to sexual predator, but it once referred to an important rural trade. Until the 1970s, it was a common sight to see a breeder herding a single “zhuge” down a rustic path with a bamboo whip, often traveling large distances over rugged terrain to service local families. Not only
When picturing Tainan, what typically comes to mind is charming alleyways, Japanese architecture and world-class cuisine. But look beyond the fray, through stained glass windows and sliding bookcases, and there exists a thriving speakeasy subculture, where innovative mixologists ply their trade, serving exquisite concoctions and unique flavor profiles to rival any city in Taiwan. Speakeasies hail from the prohibition era of 1920s America. When alcohol was outlawed, people took their business to hidden establishments; requiring patrons to use hushed tones — speak easy — to conceal their illegal activities. Nowadays legal, speakeasy bars are simply hidden bars, often found behind bookcases