By Vision Times TV
One month after China’s island province of Hainan officially entered its long-anticipated “customs closure” phase as part of its “Free Trade Port strategy,” expectations of economic takeoff have not only failed to materialize, they’ve backfired. Instead, residents and visitors alike are reporting soaring prices, declining business activity, and a steady withdrawal of both domestic and foreign investment.
A viral video summed up how the public is feeling: “Has Hainan’s economy taken off since the lockdown? I don’t see it. But prices have definitely taken off, straight into the sky. A tourist in Sanya ate four seafood dishes and paid over 1,800 yuan, and the waiter even mocked them, saying, ‘If you can’t afford it, don’t come.’ So this is what ‘international integration’ means: price integration.”
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Empty malls, dwindling foot traffic
Rather than the predicted surge of capital inflows, many investors are quietly pulling back. Once-promoted commercial districts now show empty malls, deserted office buildings, and rows of shuttered storefronts covered with “For lease” signs. Local residents report that daily living costs have surged sharply, including:
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One shopper described her experience in Sanya: “We tried to buy a watermelon and six apples. The bill was over 140 yuan, almost 150. I froze when I saw the receipt. I put everything back. I was genuinely shocked. Everyone should report Sanya’s prices, tourists or locals, it doesn’t matter.”
Another blogger recounted: “I ordered a bowl of beef noodles for 28 yuan. In Xinjiang or northern China, that’s 10–14 yuan. When he said 28, I thought I’d time-traveled to 2052.” She added that the bowl contained only clear broth, a few pickled vegetables, and two thin slices of beef: “Do locals really eat like this every day? Can they afford these prices?”
A structural trap
Many residents describe Hainan’s economy as locked into a “high prices, low wages” contradiction: “Pork is over 30 yuan per jin, vegetables cost more than 10 yuan. Yet most people here earn 2,000–3,000 yuan a month.”
“You simply can’t settle here on an ordinary salary,” writes another resident. For locals, survival is often possible because they live with family, own land, or have small agricultural income streams. But for outsiders, the math is brutal:
Inflation indicators
Residents describe five visible changes in Hainan’s port city of Haikou:
A local farmer noted: “Since the customs closure, betel nut prices have fallen 40 percent. Now it’s below 10 yuan per jin. We can survive because the land is ours. But those who lease thousands of acres? Many will pull out and cut losses.”
Struggling tourism sector
Sanya, heavily dependent on seasonal tourism, shows weak fundamentals: “This is a consumption city: People come to eat, drink, and vacation,” says the blogger in the video. “Business is seasonal. If you only make money for two months a year, is that really sustainable?”
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A restaurant owner described chronic emptiness: “Last year it was hotpot. This year it’s barbecue. Most days there’s one table, sometimes none. How long can anyone survive like this?” Residents also describe widespread contraction: “Haikou is full of empty shops with ‘Transfer’ signs. Small companies are closing. Big companies are cutting staff and wages.”
“People without jobs flood into delivery work, ride-hailing, and gig labor, but even those sectors are now overcrowded,” noted another resident, while another said, “It feels like the whole city is sick. Every industry is shrinking.”
Hainan’s customs closure was framed as a gateway to globalization, investment, and growth. But just one month later, the lived reality tells a different story: Price inflation without income growth, investment retreat without replacement, and consumption decline without recovery mechanisms. Instead of functioning as an economic accelerator, the policy shift is increasingly perceived by residents as a cost amplifier — raising daily expenses without creating sustainable income streams.