Six Months Up Front

‘If you like somewhere, take it,’ Andy told me. Apartments, he warned, could go quickly.

I had barely arrived in Hangzhou, and already I needed to choose a home.

YoYo arranged for an English-speaking agent to show us some places. We met at a modern apartment building with a reception area that reminded me of a hotel, then went up to a studio on the twenty-fourth floor.

Inside were a large bed, a bay window, a small kitchen counter and a bathroom with a shower. I didn’t love it, but I didn’t hate it either. It was private, modern and somewhere I could imagine managing on my own.

Then came the price.

The rent was 3,800 RMB a month. The landlord wanted two months’ deposit and four months’ rent upfront: 22,800 RMB before I had even moved in.

The agent drove us to the next property in a brand-new black BMW. The apartment itself was a different story. There were stone stairs, unfinished-looking floors and surroundings that made me uncomfortable. At 2,900 RMB a month, it was cheaper, but I couldn’t picture living there.

The first studio began to look considerably more appealing.

I had been given three days to find somewhere, but I felt pressure to decide quickly. Andy had warned me about losing a place, and YoYo couldn’t keep taking time away from work to help. I hadn’t really considered that my apartment hunt was taking her away from her own responsibilities.

I began counting my money.

Before leaving England, I had been advised to bring around 20,000 RMB for startup costs. I had brought about 10,000 of my own. The company lent me a further 10,000 RMB, but the rent, deposit and fees were more than I had allowed for—and I still needed something left to live on.

YoYo and I counted it again. Unsurprisingly, the total didn’t improve.

She negotiated with the landlord, who agreed to accept three months’ rent initially rather than four, with the remaining month to be paid later. There was also an administration fee of around 2,000 RMB and an agency fee equivalent to another month’s rent.

I particularly resented the agency fee. From where I was sitting, YoYo had done the difficult part of the negotiation.

What I had understood as ‘finding an apartment’ had become an exercise in producing large amounts of cash at very short notice.

That evening, at around seven, Andy called me at the hotel. YoYo had told him about my situation.

He offered to lend me 8,000 RMB.

I was astonished. He barely knew me, yet he was willing to trust me with that much money. He didn’t give me a repayment deadline. I hadn’t expected this sort of help from my new boss, and I was grateful.

The next morning, he brought an envelope of cash to work.

After my shift, YoYo and I went to a small office near the apartment building to pay the landlord and agent. We counted out the notes, including the fees. YoYo explained that the landlord was still unhappy about receiving three months’ rent rather than four.

I felt relieved, poor and rather overwhelmed all at once. This was my first real understanding of what the induction videos had meant by ‘money upfront’.

Once everything had been counted, I was given the keys.

I checked out of the hotel and moved my luggage into the studio. It was about fifteen minutes’ walk from the training centre and close to a metro station, although I mostly walked. I still wasn’t confident using the subway alone.

Having an address of my own felt like progress. Finding it again proved to be the next challenge.

Getting to work in the morning was manageable. I followed the arrow on my map app and arrived where I needed to be. Coming home after dark was another matter.

The stairways and exits around the shopping centre looked remarkably similar to me. I photographed landmarks, hoping they would help, but at night even the things I thought I recognised seemed different.

One evening, after about two hours of trying to find my way home, I gave in and messaged YoYo.

Could she help me get back to my apartment?

It was embarrassing, but she came. As we walked, she talked about something difficult in her own personal life. I didn’t have any useful advice, so I listened. She had spent so much time helping me; perhaps, on that walk, listening was something I could offer in return.

During all of this, I had barely had time to think about Britain, let alone call home. There was always another practical problem to solve, another unfamiliar thing to work out.

It wasn’t the effortless independence I might have imagined. It involved borrowed money, a great deal of help and occasionally being escorted home.

But I had my own keys, my own small space and a life that was beginning to take shape. This, too, was the adventure.