Colin Byrne/Caddie's Role: Golf is not really the people's game in the People's Republic of China. The closest most people will have got to a golf course in Beijing is their association with the land before it was sold off to the course developer. A ticket for the Johnnie Walker Classic held at the Pine Valley Country Club in north Beijing last week cost about €25. The average daily wage is about €3.

Of course there were no "real" people inside the lavish golf grounds, unless they were basic-wage employees. The entrance is fitting for a palace, with bronze statues on either side of vast, ornate gates. This leads up to the "White House", a mock of Washington's version, which operates as a small hotel for the owner of the club. The gardens and fountains around the building are based on those surrounding Versailles.

As you glide around the front of the White House towards the clubhouse, a sentry in a flowing red cape (they still like a uniform in China) salutes you. While looking, the chances are you will then notice the black and white Bentley cars also keeping guard at either wing of the building.

You pass the equestrian centre and then on to the clubhouse which, of course, is not the most modest building you are likely to come across. Guards and staff outnumber anyone else at the club. There is no shortage of staff, though I have yet to figure out exactly what this bevy of workers do; they seem caught between the old system and the current one.

All the caddies are female. There are some one hundred women who act as porters for the two hundred members and infrequent guests. They seem to be underemployed, as are so many in China. The tournament gave them an opportunity to caddie for those professionals who did not bring their regular bagmen. It was probably a welcome change to have a uniformed, uncomplicated porter at their side who quite literally turned up, kept up and shut up, given the language barrier.

The local caddies in the Beijing country clubs mostly come from outside the capital. They come specifically to work as caddies on recommendations from friends who paved the way for labourers at this new-found Chinese pastime. I had the opportunity to talk to a couple of local caddies through an interpreter during yet another delay at a 2005 tournament. This time we were halted due to excessively high winds.

I grew weary of looking at the officials from the different tours who co-sanction the event figuring out if the course was, in fact, unplayable due to the spring winds. The winds appeared not to be gale force.

It was not that strong - until you tried to address your ball on the putting surface. Whatever wind tunnel was created by the player's putter and shielding legs was enough to set the ball in motion. So the right decision was taken to cancel play. The question remained, however, as to why the greens were cut so tightly given the forecast.

When we finally got to play on Friday, the greens were not cut at all. The day was relatively calm, which meant the slow greens were even more irritating for those who had been deprived of a go at the "good" greens the previous windy day. It seems tournament directors cannot win for losing in these turbulent days of weather.

So as Huang Xiao-wei made her way to the Pine Valley resort from her dormitory accommodation about a 15-minute walk from the caddie shack, she was clocking in for a potentially good pay-day. Brenda, as she calls herself for us English speakers, was caddying for Carlos Rodiles from Spain. She knew what she was doing, according to the young Andalucian. She, along with the other two local caddies in the Rodiles threeball, was well up to the job. Despite being used to driving around in electric carts the girls managed to carry the heavier pro bags.

Brenda came to Beijing a couple of years ago from her job as a primary school teacher. She trained for a month in basic caddying duties, the rules of golf and a smattering of English, and then commenced her new job. When the course is closed for maintenance on Mondays, the girls get a chance to hit balls on the range. They are not allowed to play on the course.

With the attention to detail that they have for the land, they are afraid that the novice golfers may do too much damage to the precious track.

As I walked the course on Tuesday evening, there was a line of about 25 caddies in brown trousers, pink, long-sleeved shirts and very large-brimmed, pink plaid visors marching up the 10th fairway, repairing divots, picking up weeds and any litter that may have ended up on the course.

The average wage for a local caddie in a Beijing country club is about €60 a month, plus tips from individual golfers. The fee for professionals using a local caddie last week was €30 a day plus a tip. I doubt the girls see too much of this hefty fee, but they were reluctant to say when I probed them on the subject.

Their dormitory accommodation looked very basic and extremely cramped, and they get one day free a week. This is some indication of the disparity between the bag-ladies and the lodgers at the White House, who would pay up to €900 a night for one of the better rooms.

The Chinese have embraced golf, the game of international business, with open arms. The fact that a function was held in the Great Hall of the People on Saturday night last for the stars and special guests of the tournament gives an indication of how the communist regime is willing to open up. The imposing, monolithic architecture of the Great Hall is the venue of the legislature, the National People's Congress.

When the golfers come to town, then all those People's matters can wait for a week or two.