Traversing through the new Beijing last week, a few friends and I happened upon an old hutong (or small alleyway) along one of the side streets. We stepped inside, away from the glitz, neon lights, and fast cars of the nearby Xidan shopping district to find ourselves in a world that was very different.
This is the way the old Beijing used to be laid out; small alleyways that created Beijing’s old chessboard grid since the 13th Century. The alleys are actually public streets with private residents just on the other side of the numerous doorways, entrances, or windows lining the cramped alley. Today, this way of living is increasingly coming under attack. Beijing is literally growing “up” and is quickly destroying the old hutong neighborhoods that give it so much of its charm. High rise buildings are replacing the old hutongs surrounding the Forbidden City and the older way of life is now beginning to disappear. Yet, for that day, I was able to find some of the “old China” in the “new” Beijing.
Walking in off the busy street, things got extremely quiet in the Hutongs. You could hear TVs playing the evening news, or children laughing in some of the numerous courtyards. Bikes slowly pass you instead of the onslaught of cars and taxis that are normally found on the real street. An old woman walks down the path, perhaps a daily regimen. Walking into one of the courtyards there was a beautiful array of flowers and trees. A middle aged man gave us a welcoming glance while his wife and 10 month old child walk out of the doorway, both with smiles, and both wondering how we had stumbled upon their part of the world.
It was easy to get lost in the hutongs, quick right turns followed by a couple quick lefts (or was it three?) is an easy way to be disoriented. Yet, it felt more like we were aimlessly drifting, because I had found what I was looking for. It wasn’t the “authentic” Beijing (if this even really exists), it was simply a place that keeps something intrinsically to itself when Beijing as a city seems to be changing and Westernizing so quickly. As much as I understood the quiet and simple dynamic of the hutong alleyways, there was something mysterious and dynamic about the whole experience. What was happening behind the closed doors and the quiet courtyards? What had these alleyways seen and what do they have to say? Unlike the flashy lights and buzzing energy of the “new” Beijing, the hutongs are keeping something to themselves. While the new Beijing offers all of its secrets to anyone with a credit card…the old hutongs helped me to realize that there is an ancient and thriving Chinese culture in the heart of the commercialized Beijing and though it may be under attack, it’s putting up a formidable (though mysterious) defense of its own.
Until next time,
Craig
