As the composition shifts, the city changes. Family-owned businesses disappear as entire families relocate. Business buildings replace entire neighborhoods. More people are forced to rely on cars to travel from their distant homes.
Michael Meyer is an American writer who took up residence in Dazhalan for three years. His recently released book, The Last Days of Old Beijing, documents how the city profoundly changed as the Olympics approached. When he began his research, Meyer admits, he loved the notion that an aging generation really didn't want to lose its past. Over time, he realized that many residents were more than willing to leave; they just wanted the right price.
But there's no room for negotiation. The price is governed by law, and residents have few rights and little understanding of the process. For locals, Beijing's growth has been clouded by fear and rumor.
"My neighbors every day for two years would wake up to look at the wall and wonder if that was the day it'd be torn down," Meyer says. "I had friends who put off having a baby or changing a job because they just didn't know what was going to happen."
A paved road runs in front of Li's home. Three bikes lean against a wall, and four cars are parked on the other side of the road. There's construction down the street, where asphalt will soon cover what has been just a dirt road for hundreds of years.
"Outsiders come here and they ruin our life, they destroy our culture," barks Li, 64, a retired machinist who worked on ships. "They earn a living and they don't care about what Beijing means. Their language is a kind of slang that is not how we talk."
Li becomes animated talking about outsiders. For him, it's a matter of respect, an issue of identity.
"They come here, but they do not care about the lifestyle," he says. "They've ruined hutongs."
Philip Lin's family has lived in Beijing for generations. The son of a singer and an actor, he grew up in the northwest corner of the city. He attended the Beijing School of International Relations, studied English and left in 1985 at 24 to study in the United States. At the time, the modernization had just started, and Lin wasn't quite certain what he was leaving behind - or what he might return to.
"I saw the gates being taken down," he says of the historic centuries-old wall and towers that surrounded the old city. "Old men in Beijing, they stood and cried for what we were losing."
