Summary of the Key Points
This in-depth report uses the real experiences of two former employees from Anaya to completely shatter the public's perception of Anaya as an "artistic utopia" or a "healing sanctuary by the sea." By 2025, Anaya welcomed over 4.6 million visitors annually, with its operational revenues from hotels, homestays, and dining reaching 3 billion yuan, surpassing its real estate sales for the first time. It has successfully transformed from a developer focused on selling property to an operator that sells a lifestyle. However, beneath the surface of its refined and peaceful atmosphere lies a strictly hierarchical and controlled business system. Internally, it uses rhetoric about "idealistic collaboration" to exploit its employees, while externally, it selects customers based on a sense of exclusivity to raise the consumption threshold. The so-called "return to a peaceful place of one's true self" is essentially a commercial venture packaged with sentiment and priced clearly, no different in essence from the popular tourist destinations of Lijiang and Dali in the past.
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Simplified Explanation of the Key Points
1. Anaya's success is not due to its location by the sea, but rather its precise targeting of the needs of Beijing's middle class
Many people think Anaya's popularity stems from its beautiful seaside venues and libraries. In fact, its success is largely due to its targeted customer base: 90% of its owners are from Beijing, where local housing prices are around 10,000 yuan per square meter, while Anaya's second-hand homes can sell for 26,000 yuan per square meter, all thanks to the support of Beijing's new middle class. These people, tired of the competition in the city, want a place to escape for a few days without having to endure difficult living conditions in remote areas. They demand familiar chain restaurants, aesthetically pleasing internet-famous shops, a peaceful environment, and the company of people from their own social class, along with the psychological comfort of feeling like they are escaping the pressures of urban life. Anaya has simply transplanted the middle-class lifestyle of Beijing to a remote beach, even providing them with a sense of community that other tourist spots lack—owners can collectively scold tourists for taking photos, saying, "This is our community, not a tourist attraction; you are visiting my home." This exclusivity is what makes its business more profitable than selling property.
2. The "healing smiles" you see are actually mandatory KPIs in the employee handbook
Visitors to Anaya often notice that security guards, shuttle bus drivers, and even beach cleaners all offer standard smiles. However, these smiles are required as part of their performance evaluations. If an employee is caught not smiling by a supervisor, they can be criticized or even fined and fired. The use of terms like "partners," "community creators," and "owners of Anaya" is similar to how internet companies refer to layoffs as "graduations" and colleagues as "classmates"—it's a way to blur the lines between work and personal life, making employees feel as if they are contributing to a shared home. Even things like having a day off or posting about going to Disney on social media can lead to criticism for "damaging morale."
3. Anaya is not a utopia of equality but a micro-society with clear hierarchies
The 4.3-square-kilometer park is divided into distinct classes based on an access code:
- The top class consists of owners, who have exclusive dining facilities and priority access to all events, essentially acting as the masters of this "small kingdom."
- The second class includes tourists who pay hundreds to thousands of yuan to stay in the hotels, buying temporary residency rights.
- The third class consists of young people who come for a day or two, taking photos of the library and leaving quickly, often unable to even enter the dining hall.
- The lowest class consists of park employees, who cannot use the owners' shuttle buses or public resources, have long commutes, and are not even allowed to enter events like music festivals held on the lawn. A recent interviewee had to walk down two flights of stairs to the interview room, a scenario reminiscent of the semi-basement setting in the movie "Parasite."
4. The seemingly warm "direct management" by the owner is actually a fragile facade
Anaya promotes the idea that founder Ma Yin personally reviews all customer messages in his "Ma Yin Mailbox" and reflects on his behavior when visitors complain about his lack of smile. However, from the employees' perspective, Ma Yin makes all the decisions. A single positive review of a competitor on his social media account can prompt immediate research without any clear objectives, and poor-quality content on the company's official account can lead to a halt in new posts. To compete for traffic, homestay owners in large groups reveal their educational backgrounds and maliciously report each other. When employees face customer complaints, the standard response is to delay resolution. Any small issue, such as an employee dozing off or a customer complaint, results in the dismissal of the responsible employee. The system seems efficient, but it relies entirely on Ma Yin's energy and is not a sustainable modern business model.
5. Why do former employees never want to return as tourists?
The report highlights a poignant point: Those who understand how the illusion is created cannot truly relax in the expensive homestays. The flat beach they enjoy is the result of cleaners working three shifts a day, and the friendly greetings they hear are the result of repeated training. The peaceful moments by the sea are maintained by dozens of staff members who ensure order and cleanliness. When you realize that all the "poetry" is the result of hard work and exploitation, the illusion of being healed by the sea crumbles. You may have escaped the pressures of the city, but you've just entered another, more refined consumer trap where everyone is participating in a performance for your money.