Sure, I knew that the super-rich live a life I can only dream of, and that everything is a lot easier when you have a few billion dollars in your bank account. But when I suddenly sat next to such a privileged figure on the bus and got a glimpse into his rich life, I was still amazed. The biggest difference, I concluded with some envy, was in the little things.
This happened to me when I returned to China from vacation two months ago, and had to go back into hotel quarantine upon arrival. Only ten days this time, a ‘windfall’. On the quarantine bus from the airport to the hotel, I struck up a conversation with my neighbour, a young man from a European country. It turned out that he had been living in China for years, and endured all the disinfection madness and white suit chaos around us with the imperturbability of a China veteran.
At the same time, he proved remarkably clumsy with the long string of health apps, in which everyone has to enter their body temperature, travel history, test results and other data a hundred times, hoping that a green code will roll out at the end of the quarantine. My neighbor didn’t understand the apps that have dominated life in China for three years. I gave him a quick basics course, but was surprised: What planet had he spent the past three years on?
It turned out: the planet of people with a lot of money. My neighbor worked as a personal assistant for one of the family members of a well-known Chinese billionaire family. He wasn’t authorized to talk to the media, so I’ll have to leave out recognizable details, but let me put it this way: his employer is a fixture on lists of the world’s richest people.
It was up to my neighbor to fill in all the needs and wishes of his family member, preferably before they had been expressed. When this family went out to eat, not only did a table have to be reserved, but their favorite meal had to be ready on arrival. If they suddenly felt like going on a sailing trip while on holiday, a sailing yacht had to be ready. Rented all sailing boats? It is his job to find a solution. People on an unlimited budget don’t like to be disappointed.
It was a stressful job, my neighbor said. On the other hand, if the family was at work or at school, he could swim laps in the private pool. On vacation he could enjoy sailing trips in paradisiacal places. And during three years of zero-covid policy, he had hardly noticed any travel restrictions. When he traveled with the family, it was on their private plane or with an escort. Only now that he was traveling alone for the first time did he suddenly have to fill out health apps.
Of course, I knew that the super-rich led a different life, but suddenly I saw that concretely in front of me. It seemed delicious. Not the ready favorite meals or the sailing yacht, not the private swimming pool or private plane, but the immense luxury of being above the zero-covid policy. No filling out health apps, no PCR tests of shoe soles and toothbrush, no supporting role in the absurd B-movie that China’s zero-covid policy has now become.
To have no idea of the daily misery of travel restrictions, hotel quarantines, testing obligations and green codes: that is the ultimate privilege of the Chinese elite. And also by the Chinese leaders, who decide on the zero-covid policy and seem to be in no hurry to find a way out. My neighbor already knew: it was a great system, until he suddenly had problems with it himself.