Hutongs in Beijing

On a recent trip to Beijing, a friend of mine brought me to what was called “Hutongs”. All he said was there are many “hutongs” in Beijing, and I had absolutely no idea if Hutongs refer to the name of a place, a street name, like “Jurong” for instance, or what?

As I turned away from the hustle and bustle of the city in search of “Hutongs” I was greeted with quiet pavements and high walls on one side of the road. Occasionally, I’ll find a small entrance into civilization, but most of the time, the pavements were deserted and the owners of shops opposite the road were standing around chatting to one another.

I stopped outside one of those entrances and peered into the narrow and cluttered alleys. It was disorganized, and messy but in a nice kind of way because it seemed untainted by aesthetic or compulsive decision- making. It is a way of life, and this was characterised by the disregard to their rusting bicycles, or dust settling on their windows they can hardly peer out of it.

Perhaps I have a penchant for what is old, ignored, rusty and even what some would consider dirty, because it embodies a certain history that must be rich enough for it to sustain till this present moment. Moreover, having been borne into modern Singapore, I have never seen any part of Singapore that remotely looks like that, so it was enriching.

I entered one of the gates, not sure if I’ve just trespassed into private territory, but the good thing is, you can always pledge innocence being a tourist and since there were no overt signs hanging at the doors that warned me, I figured I’ll think about it only when someone runs out of the house with a knife at me.

I must have walked past where the lavatory is in the house, because the pungent smell needed no introduction. I had my picture taken to signify this was what a living space in a Hutong is like. I saw through one tiny square pane of the window, (because the rest were too dusty) and saw an old woman busying herself in the house. How voyeuristic! Maybe she’s gotten used to strange people posing outside her window, because while she looked hard at me, she showed no attempt to chase me away nor invite me in.

Quaint is the word I would use to describe Hutongs. Ask me exactly what they are, I can only go by the definition offered on websites and in pictorial books. Simply put, Hutongs refers to a small alleyway or lane. These lanes are formed by lines of siheyuan, a compound made up of rooms around a courtyard in which most Beijing residents used to live.

When I came back to Singapore and was toying with some topics for my FYP, I find myself browsing through images of Hutongs online, although I am surprised they were rather limited. At Magnum Photos, I managed to find pictures of the destruction of some Hutongs which is quite a sorry sight considering what was brimming with character and rustic feel is reduced to dust and rubble. In most other pictures I saw, they showcased merely the exteriors of Hutongs and very few of what some of the Beijingers living there do in their free time.

I guess I want to do something different, and something in me tells me I can offer an angle no one else has taken, or rather few people have explored. I’ve seen a couple of picture books on Hutongs, and I find myself glossing over the beautiful black and white pictures the way I would browsing through a property catalogue. They don’t tell me much. All these pictures, and more pictures of front gates and roof tops and screen walls conjure the image of anti-social and unfriendly neighbourhood. Few pictures reveal the interior of a courtyard house including the common areas and the rooms so I don’t know if they actually sleep on beds, on sheets or other surfaces. Few showed Beijingers actually engaging in some household activity. Do they cook their meals? And what do they eat? Do they eat together like how Chinese often would, and do they do that on a proper table, sitting on the floor? How do they cope when winter hits? Do they have fireplaces? Heating systems? It seems almost as if they have no family or that family life is not part of their culture, which is very surprising considering that China supposedly possesses a collectivistic nature. Do they much rather prefer to gather with other people outside of their houses playing cards? I have no doubt the cohesiveness of the Hutong families are delivered through these communal leisure activities, but is that all there is to it? I don’t have enough information to confirm these portrayals. And so I want to embark on my own journey to discover more about Hutong life. For all I know, in 10 years time, or maybe less, Hutongs are no longer going to stand as they give way to modern buildings and apartments. Or worse, some parts of Hutongs are preserved for the sole purpose of tourism, wiping out the authentic way of life. Pretty much like how our Chinatown has transformed itself into what it is today. If you ask me, I rather see creaky windows and battered door frames than the colourful shop houses and rows of shops beckoning tourists. Before Hutongs in Beijing potentially loses its identity and become yet another commercial exploit, I want to leave an identity for them because I didn’t manage to do it for any slum areas of Singapore. Being caught up in this rat race makes these less than contemporary districts and possibly slower pace of life, a good source of introspection. Who are the ones living in Hutongs? Contrary to what most people assume, I heard there are some rich families who are living there. So it’s also interesting to know how are their lives different from the people living in the city itself. Why do they choose to live there? Do their jobs differ? How do they feel about the neighbourhood and what is unique about it? What are their fears, anxieties, and uncertainties of their future living space?

I am so gamed to find out and I can’t wait to share my work with everyone. I just hope it’s good enough. Cross my fingers.