I live in an enclave of hotel buildings for long-term residents set amid a patchwork of folk communities. My neighbors are mostly Chinese professionals who have come to the capital for a few weeks on business.

Business is good, very good. The parking lot outside my building stands full of expensive-looking SUVs and sedans.

On the edge of the lot is a mom-and-pop store, and jutting from the side of the building is an overhang that shelters about 3-square-meters of sidewalk from the weather. The shop owner leaves his empty crates and boxes there.