ABSTRACT
One morning in early March 1999, hundreds of residents in Baileqiao village, on the outskirts of Hangzhou, the capital of Zhejiang province, received notices informing them that their land would be expropriated and their houses demolished to make way for the integration of the area into the West Lake tourist precinct. Within a fortnight, they should present their residential registration documents and property deeds to the head of the demolition company, who would determine their eligibility for compensation. Everyone had to leave the village by 30 March. That evening, neighbours gathered together to discuss the notice:
It was all announced so suddenly we haven’t had time to prepare ourselves. Granny and grandfather next door have lived here their entire lives, still grow tea, but they have to leave too’. Granny’s quavering voice comes from the doorway: ‘I won’t sleep for worrying. I can’t
make sense of all the calculations. We went to him straight away and said it isn’t fair, it doesn’t take us old folk into account. We were members of the commune, got our house and land when it broke up, but we don’t have documents for them. “Not fair? Not fair?” he says to me. “You will get compensated for 48 square metres of floor space but some will get nothing at all! How can you complain about fairness?” I’m so worried’.
