In the face of modernization, China is struggling to preserve its cultural heritage, and nowhere is this more visible than in the ancient hutongs of Beijing.
I have never been an admirer of the hutongs from an architectural or historical point of view, it was more about the buzz I felt as I meandered down these narrow alleys, seeing them bursting with activity. Sadly, the city’s rapid growth will no longer allow these vibrant communities to remain in these areas. The government’s continued efforts to modernize the city are incompatible with these dilapidated neighbourhoods but there is also a longing for change coming from within.
The word "Hutong" in Chinese means narrow street or alley. It refers to neighbourhoods within the old city walls which have existed since the 13th century. Typically these hutongs consist of rows of “Siheyuans”. These are rectangular single storey structures built in a square formation, which leave an open courtyard in the centre. In Imperial times these courtyard homes would have had a single owner, and different levels of decoration on their front door would indicate their economic and social status.
In modern china these courtyards are shared by many families, with one kitchen to be shared amongst them and the only toilet is the public one out in the street. What was once the home of a high-ranking official, is now home to four families who have lived together, generation after generation. There has always been a sense of kinship between these families and in the age of the single-child policy even more so; children see their neighbours’ children as siblings.
The hutong alleys are too narrow to be burdened by passing traffic and these neighbourhoods have become a labyrinth for pedestrians. I suggest one should only enter either accompanied by a local or riding a bicycle, as it makes finding your way out a lot quicker. Hutong residents have succumbed to the appeal of this open, traffic-less space on their door step and rather than spending their free time locked in their small confined dwellings, they choose to take whatever they are doing outside. When you wander through the hutongs, it is common to see kids playing badminton either side of an imaginary net, chess players bent over a board propped up on two bricks or someone squatting by a water basin doing their laundry. If you visit in the evening and start hearing 80’s dance music, you have more than likely walked into an open space where 80 pensioners are all dancing in synch to the music. A must see if you are visiting Beijing.
Unfortunately these areas in Beijing are slowly disappearing, making way for high rises, or they are rebuilt to be used commercially for tourists. Some more fortunate areas are restoring the courtyards to their former glory but their new wealthy landlords are less likely to take to the streets. Chess is played inside sitting on leather armchairs and all laundry is strictly washed behind closed doors. These sought after properties can be incredibly beautiful and valuable beyond the reach of most but their streets have lost all their communal charm and are now lifeless.
When the city decides to raze areas of hutongs, residents are given apartments in the city´s suburbs in exchange. Older residents prefer their humble homes to these distant, spacious modern apartments for fear that their lifestyles will be turned upside down. Younger generations are more aware of the comforts these newer homes offer and feel their allure. Beijing winter’s can be harsh and an indoor toilet and central heating alone will convince many. It is only a matter of time before broadband internet, a washing machine, air conditioning and a parking spot will get everybody else on board. Fortunately for me, this will not happen overnight and my Sunday afternoon walks to the hutong’s fruit and vegetable markets won’t come to an end any time soon.
