There’s No Place Like Home

In C.S. Lewis’s children’s classic “The Magician’s Nephew”, the title character and his friend wander into a new world in which they accidentally awaken the witch Jadis. She flings open the doors of her palace and shows them her city, Charn, which stretches as far as the eye can see in every direction. Shanghai, where my wife and I have been on and off for the past week, is our world’s Charn. With over 20 million people, it stretches as far as the eye can see in every direction, a crazy quilt of towering skyscrapers, construction cranes, and demolition covered every day we were there by a haze of smog. We took a walk recommended by one of our guidebooks in a historic neighborhood, only to discover that the old buildings had all been demolished since the book was written in 2008 and empty lots surrounded us on all sides.

Shanghai is energetic, vital, and fast paced. Everyone seems to be in a hurry. Recently a newly constructed building literally fell down, as the developer had bribed engineering officials to allow him to build a garage below the building rather than a foundation. It has the acutely capitalist anything goes feel which must have permeated our cities in the late 19th century during the railroad boom. There does not appear to be much in the way of zoning – giant skyscrapers of 50 stories or more adjoin low rise buildings in neighborhood after neighborhood. Except in the French concession, there are few trees.

New York is small by comparison. Our real estate markets are comparably expensive, although in Shanghai values in the luxury market have surged 40% during the last three years. But our time in Shanghai has made me acutely aware of the beauty of Manhattan. We are surrounded by parks and tree lined streets. Ultra high rise buildings are mostly confined to the Midtown and Wall Street areas. And our city has a strong desire to retain its own history, actively using landmarking to make sure that local neighborhoods preserve their character and encourage a mix of old and new to flourish.

My son, who is spending the summer working in Shanghai, asked me this morning if I like my work as much as I used to. In answering him in the affirmative, I was moved to think about what makes being a residential broker in New York a wonderful job. The charm of the city and the endless diversity of our housing stock have never ceased to be fascinating. Like brokers everywhere, we are helping people create a home, around which their lives will be centered for years to come. But in the end we are selling New York, with its architectural marvels, its commitment to philanthropy and cultural life, its endless diversity of ethnicities and national origins, its acceptance of all choices and lifestyles. What could be better than that? 

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