The area, the historical commercial center of Beijing, is more than 500 years old, and some of these businesses have been at their locations for more than a century. The perimeter, though, is lined with neon signs and stores aimed at tourists - gift shops, restaurants and even the world's largest Kentucky Fried Chicken.
Much of Dazhalan still seems from a bygone era. Most people rely on public toilets and pay phones. Roadways are too narrow for a car, so men navigate the maze of alleyways on bicycles with carts trailing behind. They shout "Coal!" or "Trash!" or "Beer!"
In a huge country and a huge city, Dazhalan is a small universe. It is very much an "urban village," says Ou, the filmmaker who studied the area and produced an independent documentary, The Dazhalan Project.
Throughout Beijing, such neighborhoods are self-contained, everything you need just a few blocks away - school, police station, pharmacy, grocery store. Sights such as children walking to school or women pulling carts full of produce are common.
"The architecture, the courtyards, the buildings, much of it has remained unchanged for years and years," Ou says.
Because the neighborhood is so close to Tiananmen Square, the government and developers have re-envisioned what the area should look like, widening roads, tearing down homes and businesses, uprooting centuries of tradition and relocating people who until now had barely wandered outside of Dazhalan.
Of more than 7,000 estimated hutongs in Beijing in the mid-20th century, fewer than 1,000 remain, according to most estimates.
Ou explains that three types of people live in hutongs: Those who moved in from outside and can't afford much else, those who have always lived there and never want to move, and those who will move for the right price.
Developers insist hutongs were torn down because of safety concerns - outdated fixtures, dangerous construction, flammable materials and faulty wiring.
"For the most part, it is not a safe and sanitary place to live," Ou says.
Ou says that even though living conditions might be inconvenient or even unsafe, the roots of Dazhalan residents are buried so deep in the neighborhood that the prospect of leaving is difficult.
The city's boundaries continually expand, and most who are forced from their historic homes end up nearer the outskirts of the city. The high-rise apartments offer modern amenities but little familiarity and even less of a sense of community.
