WANGFUJING 王府井

The Hand of Rockefeller

Ever since I saw a handful of signs around the Peking Union Hospital in Wangfujing, indicating that this or that bulding was built by the Rockefeller Foundation, I've been idly poking into the Foundation's contributions to Beijing's geography during the 10s and 20s. Finally I thought to go to the source, and discovered that the Foundation, like a good public institution, makes an annual report archive dating back to 1913 available online. Work on the Peking Union Hospital began in 1917, but this is from the detailed overview published in the 1919 report:

PLANT.

The nucleus of the plant of the Peking Union Medical College is formed by the group of buildings which belonged to the original missionary school. The pre-medical school is now housed in the laboratories and classrooms of the old buildings; the men's hospital is still in use; and the residence compounds have been taken over and additional houses built. The new buildings for the medical school occupy, in the heart of the city, a large tract which was formerly the site of the palace of a Manchu prince. A few plots of land adjacent to the property already owned have been purchased during the past year.

In the architectural scheme of the new buildings, Mr. Harry Hussey, the designer, has attempted to combine both Chinese and American forms. The inside of the buildings is very much what would be found in a first class medical school in the States; the outside is almost wholly Chinese. The construction is of gray brick with jade green, glazed-tiled roofs, and scarlet pillars. Under the eaves and around all porticoes and entrances there are decorations in Chinese design, beautifully executed by Chinese artisans, in red, blue, green, and gold. The effect is striking. Already, even before the completion of contruction, the group forms a landmark in Peking; the Chinese call it "The Green City."

…

The faculty residences are grouped in two walled compounds five or ten minutes walk from the medical school. They are of brick and concrete with slate roofs, and contain all the conveniences of western life, The fourteen new residences in the south compound, adjacent to the original men's hospital, were completed in September and October. Those in the north compound (on land formerly belonging to the London Mission) will probably be finished in time to be occupied in the early autumn of 1920.

Many difficulties have been encountered in construction. Owing to the war, materials and scientific equipment have been hard to secure; export and transportation embargoes have caused embarrassing delays; prices have increased; and the adverse rate of exchange has practically doubled the cost of the work. The present estimate of the total cost of buildings, equipment, and land is almost seven million dollars in gold.

Besides the large staff of western trained engineers, artisans, draftsmen, and mechanics, nearly three thousand coolies have been employed.

This is accompanied by what must have been fascinating photographs, all excised for some unfathomable and highly frustrating reason. The 'original missionary school' was a medical school run by the London Mission, located on a street called Xinkai Lu (新开路), I'm not sure what that corresponds to on today's map. Of the two faculty residence areas, one still exists on the east side of Dongdan Beidajie (东单北大街), between the mouths of Dongtangzi Hutong (东堂子胡同) and Waijiaobu Jie (外交部街) – I believe this was the north compound.

I've read rumors elsewhere that Rockefeller built a home for his parents not far from here, at the intersection of Jinbao Jie (金宝街) and Beizongbu Hutong (北总布胡同): ie the buildings that have lain fallow since Liang Sicheng (梁思成) and his wife Lin Huiyin (林徽因) held their influential literary salon there (and which are at last being renovated for some mysterious purpose). It's the sort of thing that might not make a foundation's annual report, but I'm going to see if I can dig up some more concrete proof.

May 20, 5:38a.m.

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Three Monuments to Christianity

It can be surprising to discover how much influence the West and Western things had on China around the turn of the last century – I'm not talking about invasions and indemnities, but the finer-grained penetration, via individuals or small groups, of forces such as commerce or religion.

St. Joseph's cathedral has been the main symbol of Christianity in Beijing since it (or its first incarnation) was built in 1655, but by the early 20th century the activities of foreign missionaries had ballooned from the original handful of Jesuits. After the Legation Quarter the Wangfujing area seemed to be a particular favorite for Western residents. The three-story building on Dongdan Beidajie was built in 1928 with funds from the Maryland State Bible Society, and became Beijing's Bible Society, one of the main places in the city where you could purchase bibles. It also held the first gymnasium in Beijing, and a movie theater that became the Red Star Theater after 1949. It's still pretty impressive, an odd mixture of eastern and western architectural styles, and now houses the "Beijing Committee of Three-self Patriotic Movement of the Protestant Church" (北京市基督教三自爱国运动委员会) and the Beijing Christian Council (北京市基督教教务委员会), organizations responsible for maintaining, um, order among Beijing's faithful.

Another fascinating site is the Young Women's Christian Association of Beijing, located in a courtyard complex on Xitangzi Hutong (西堂子胡同). Xitangzi Hutong is a dead end, its western terminus swallowed up in office buildings and shopping malls. The YWCA courtyards are at the very end, lying beneath these enormous buildings like a possum playing dead. The YWCA was established in 1916 by a group of Chinese, British and American proponents of women's education. They were located in nearby Ganyu Hutong (甘雨胡同) until 1936, when they scraped together enough cash to buy this location in 1936. The courtyards are enormous, dating from the reign of Yongzheng (1723-1735, ironic since Yongzheng once kicked all Christian missionaries out of China), and had been home to various Qing dynasty officials. The hotel opened last year, and staying there is a great chance to see some traditional architecture, as well as some history.

March 3, 3:36p.m.

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Milk Palace

Here's something I barely credited when I first heard it, but turns out to be plain fact: north of Wangfujing, around Dongchang hutong (东厂胡同), there was a place called Naizifu (奶子府, Milk Palace or Wet Nurse Palace), where nursing women produced human milk for the consumption of Qing dynasty nobles and royal family.

Every three months, twenty new girls were brought in – proper Manchurians only, typically between the ages of 15 and 20, who had given birth in the past three months (their own children were left behind). They picked ten women who'd borne sons and ten women who'd borne daughters; the milk of the former was given to palace women, the milk of the latter was given to the emperor and the princes.

The selection process was rigorous – the women had to be from excellent households, in perfect health, and beautiful to boot. Their children, moreover, had to be perfect specimens. Cixi was particularly demanding when it came to her wet nurses.

It's hard to say whether this is wonderful or creepy.

Update: After wandering around in the Dongchang hutong area for a couple of hours and talking to some old people, it became clear that the Naizifu has almost certainly been chai'd, along with much of the area between Fuqiang hutong (富强胡同) and Wangfujing Dajie. What's really galling is that it probably went just a couple of weeks ago. I don't know why I'd got all excited about seeing the Milk Palace, but I had.

Update Two: We're now officially referring to this as the Lactorium.

February 27, 11:52p.m.

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Neither wealthy nor strong

This started out as a consolation prize to myself, after I discovered that the Milk Palace was no more. I was going to visit Fuqiang hutong (富强胡同), see the Hui Wangfu (惠王府, a palace of Qing princes) and get my old-building fix that way. The Hui Wangfu originally opened south onto Dengshikou Xijie (灯市口西街), but that's blocked up by an apartment building now. You can see the roofs from many directions – massive decrepit eaves clad in brilliant green tiles, appearing entirely unrestored – but the only way in is from Fuqiang hutong.

Fuqiang hutong feels ancient. One hundred paces from Wangfujing Dajie, it feels Ming dynasty, and not in a cutesy Qianmen kind of way. Not cutesy enough for the local government, anyway: they are tearing it down post haste, and judging from the pro-demolition slogans sprayed on the walls, the local residents are not going gently. The northern end of the hutong, in particular, is absolutely plastered with patriotic slogans urging residents to get on with their lives – in some other part of town. There's hardly a wall that isn't thus decorated.

A parking lot attendant explained that the Hui Wangfu was part of a Gong'an danwei (the police), and that we wouldn't be able to get in. A few meters north there was an unmarked gate into a compound, and sure enough there was the Hui Wangfu, in all it's crumbling glory. The gate started closing even as we approached it. We had the following conversation with the guard:

"Are people allowing in this place?"

"No."

"We can't even go in and look at the buildings?"

"No, this is a danwei (work unit) compound."

"Which danwei?"

Silence.

"Which danwei is this?"

"Do you see a sign on the gate?"

"Um... no."

"So why do you have to ask?"

Further conversation with a very old, very talkative lady up the street revealed that this place was crawling with shady organizations and they were all bastards, every one of them. Tempers seem to run high around here.

Further conversations with Google revealed that Dongchang hutong (东厂胡同), which Fuqiang hutong joins at its northern end, was the location of the eunuch-run secret police during the Ming dynasty, an organization that answered only to the emperor and his top eunuch. An emerging theme throughout this whole thing has been: some things change very slowly indeed.

Update: Part of the mystery is solved. One of the reasons why this tiny little hutong feels so tense is that number 3 is the courtyard where Zhao Ziyang lived out the last 15 years of his life. It's hard to imagine this cramped space crowded with mourners following his death in 2005, but it was. This is another good reason why the Hui Wangfu – directly across from his old home – should now be home to the men in black.

February 21, 8:01p.m.

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