The hutong, ancient alleys of grey walled one-storey houses with a courtyard, is not only a peculiar chinese architectural form, but above all an open air expression of the historical and cultural traditions of Beijing. Every hutong lives its own life and all kinds of merchandise is sold or swapped, food is being cooked on every corner. The charcoal-seller, the shoemaker and even the cricket-seller crowd the narrow streets where people are playing mahjong in the open or relaxing in one of the many armchairs put outside the houses. Estimated to more than 7000 in the 1950s, the number of hutongs in Beijing today is reduced to a few hundreds because of the need for wider avenues and new shiny buildings. It's hard to guess an exact number of persons who have been forced to move somewhere else. Some speek of promised compensations from the government, others tell about neighbours obligated to emigrate to the countryside. Yet one thing is for sure, with the disappearance of the hutong not only a magnificent architectural style will disappear, but also a large number of crafts that was the source of subsistence for the hutongs inhabitants.