Down the Dashilar West Street that cuts through the middle of Beijing, one can find an old-fashioned restaurant that resembles an ancient pavilion. Outfitted with hardwood furnishings and staffed by waitresses in traditional dress, the restaurant gives visitors a glimpse into Beijing as it was several decades ago.
One of the restaurant's most unique features is its wall decor -- a series of black and white photos taken in previous years, depicting the previous denizens of the "hutongs" (alleyways) and their surroundings. The photos were all taken by Jia Yong, the owner of the restaurant and an award-winning photographer.
Jia was born and raised in this neighborhood, not far from Tian'anmen Square and the Forbidden City. He has another restaurant and a gallery nearby, where he displays more of his photos. The pictures show a side of Beijing that is known only to those who have lived here for years, as Jia has.
Jia got into photography a bit late, having tried his hand at a multitude of professions, including weightlifting and selling vegetables, before opening his own photo printing business. Jia seemed to have found his calling; it took him just three years to build his business into an 11-branch franchise.
Jia's love of his hometown and desire to see it preserved is perhaps the only thing greater than his love of photography. Troubled by the demolition of several Beijing hutongs, Jia started taking pictures of the ancient alleys in 1984 to preserve them in some fashion before they were destroyed. Jia spent three years taking photos of the city's hutongs, ending up with about 50,000 shots.
Jia posted many of the photos on the walls of his businesses for his customers to observe and enjoy. One day in 2006, a customer took particular interest in the photos and examined them one-by-one, apparently lost in thought. An interpreter who accompanied the man, who turned out to be a university professor from the Republic of Korea, told Jia that the man was looking for competitive photographers to take part in an international photo comptetition.
Jia agreed to sign up for the contest. Several days later, he selected 20 pictures and sent them to the Korean professor. Not long after, Jia got a message from the professor, asking Jia for his bank card number. The professor wanted to send Jia a prize of 2,000 U.S. dollars for winning first place in the contest.
"I thought it was fraud," Jia recalled. But he gave his number anyway. The prize came as promised, as well as a certificate and a collector's album featuring photos by all of the contest's award-winning photographers.
Jia's first-place photo depicts an elderly man sitting near the doorway of his hutong home, fanning himself in the summer heat.
"It was a summer in the early 1990s," Jia said. "Air conditioning was still a dream for people living in Beijing's hutongs."
