The ancient hutongs in Beijing form a radial pattern, intertwining like a chessboard. There are over 3,600 large hutongs and countless small ones. Today, let’s talk about Houwei Hutong, located near Beijing Railway Station, now under the jurisdiction of Jianguomen Subdistrict Office. Houwei Hutong is connected to Beixianyu Xiang in the east, and it intersects with Maxian Hutong in the southwest. The hutong is not long, with only a few households, comprising about a dozen courtyards. It is not straight; there is a bend in the northwest. It was once called Houweiba Hutong, and later changed to Houwei Hutong for a similar sound. Legend has it that a marquis once lived here, hence the hutong had two different names, both Houwei (from Houweiba, monkey’s tail) and Houwei (from the marquis, also pronounced as Houwei in Chinese).
Houwei Hutong was once one of the hutongs I was very familiar with during my childhood. In the southwest corner of the hutong, there was a courtyard with two heavy black wooden doors, giving it a solid and imposing appearance. My older sister’s classmate, Sister Meirong, lived there. My older sister often took me to Sister Meirong’s house, and the two of them were very close friends. I remember Sister Meirong had many children in her family. She was not very talkative, appearing calm and rational. Later, she became a teacher. Whether in severe coldness or scorching heat, whenever my older sister took me to Meirong’s house, Meirong’s mother would always pull my older sister aside, talking incessantly. Before parting, she repeatedly urged us to come by often, with warm words like a gentle breeze. In those years, my older sister excelled in her studies and was an outstanding student at the old Beijing No.27 Middle School. Among her close friends from school were Sister Nie from Zhongxianyu Xiang and Sister Shang from Zhima Hutong. They were all my close companions of my old sister’s.
Houwei Hutong is not spacious either, with a length of a few hundred meters and around ten households. On the northwest side of the hutong stands a two-story building with a long history. The family of my third sister’s classmate, Sister Che, once lived here. In my memory, Sister Che was not short. With not-so-fair skin and big eyes, she was undoubtedly a beauty back in the day. The small building exudes a tranquil, elegant, and solemn atmosphere, as if it carries a certain mysterious feeling.
In the 1960s and 1970s, No. 13 House at Beixianyu Xiang used to be the residence of the local subway police station. It is also the only remaining courtyard with a house number in Beixianyu Xiang, occupying the first-sight position on the east side of Houwei Hutong. In the past, there were holes and iron rings on the south wall outside, where livestock could be tethered. However, these features were removed during a wall repair later on.
Returning to Houwei Hutong once again, the beautifully preserved brick carvings on the walls within the hutong bear witness to its long history. It’s as if they are telling and recounting the stories of the hutong from ancient times to the present in a soft voice.
Hutongs, with their long and rich cultural history, are the lifeblood of survival for natives living in Beijing. They carry the authentic memories of many people since childhoods and bear witness to the genuine friendships formed. The kind and upright teachings of the elders from years past still resonate even now. Despite the changes in history, the surviving old hutongs may appear weathered, but they authentically record the transitions and developments of Beijing, serving as witnesses to the city’s development. The scattered memories are turned into reminiscence, echoing the repetition of an old neighbor like Aunt Zhang from years ago asking, “Where is the little kid off to this time?” The words seem to linger in the air.
