Saying goodbye (for now) to the hutong

We both knew the moment would have to come sometime, but Ted and I both left our hutong last night knowing we would miss our little corner of Beijing. This hutong has been a home away from home for us, as we went from the strange laowais who must be lost in the eyes of the neighbors, to the local patrons who couldn't live without their morning sweets and evening snacks.

Living in the hutong, we got a first-hand experience of the state of development in Beijing's hutongs, and just like many things in Beijing, things may not always be what they seem. The scene to the right shows a house that we saw being torn down, brick by brick, with a pick ax. Everyday we would walk by and see a little more of the building had been knocked down and carried away, and we couldn't help but feel disappointed at the sight of this destruction.

But as we explored deeper in the hutong, we also found this example of traditional craftsmanship being used to build new siheyuans where older ones had been torn down. While it is not pleasant seeing the historic fabric being torn down by two men at a time, it is still reassuring that in some areas of Beijing measures are being taken to ensure that new structures will be as authentic as possible, and will blend in with the existing landscape, which is a far cry from the disney-fication of the hutongs of Qianmen and Chongwen. These two men are working in a tandem to prepare beams, with the man in the foreground shaving the log, after which the other man uses an adz to square the log.

Beyond the mounds of information that Ted and I were able to gather from our experience here, I think we will remember the people and the food the most. So used to our faces at all times of day asking for two thick slices of Tamarind bread, the woman working the sweets stand to the left gave us one of those tasty looking muffins as goodbye gift when we stopped by on our way to catch the overnight train. Even though we only speak about 10 words of Mandarin and she speaks no English, I could tell by her smile and kind gesture that she got a kick out of our frequenting her stand, and knew that we were thoroughly addicted to her bread.

Now that we are in Qingdao (which Ted is going to write all about), it has made me realize how unique the hutong experience is. Before I could only read about how people valued or devalued the hutong, but seeing it myself, I know I will miss the community there.

But all is not lost: Ted and I loved the neighborhood so much that we are going to stay there again at the very end of our time in China, at which time we will be going on a tour of the great wall with the great staff at Templeside.

For now though, we are bumming on the beaches of Qingdao, where fitness is a way of life, and the architecture is a strange mix of dilapidated European sophistication and Asian modernism. I can tell you already that while the beach is nice, I would kill for some of that Tamarind bread right now ...