Cliff Andrade

His English name was Peter. I assume we caught his eye in the dim orange glow of the platform lights, struggling aboard our overnight train at Shanghai South. As soon as we had worked our way down the worn carriages, inspecting uninspiring squat toilets on route, and were settled, he engaged us in wide-eyed conversation.

Han China can seem an unfriendly place: the seemingly aggressive conversations held at shouting volume; the lack of ‘personal space’; the inevitable scrum at any ticket window. On the iron road however, in between slurps of instant noodles, the Chinese reveal their hospitable side. It wasn’t long before we were offered a share of food and, having been assigned the middle and the claustrophobia inducing upper bunk, offered seating space on the lower bunk so we could be in more comfort whilst being talked and stared at.

Travelling by train, this hospitality helps to make the noisy, crowded and dirty ride less arduous. Overcoming the horror at seeing the train guard mop the entire carriage with the same mop she has just used to wipe out the squat loo bowl takes digging a little deeper.

Off the train, the historical grandeur of Beijing, illuminated by ubiquitous red paper lanterns, or the modern opulence of central Shanghai’s rooftop bars overlooking the twinkling glass of Pudong New Area, things may seem fairly familiar.

However, stepping one street back from this we found men in alleyways crowded around on low stools, shouting and smoking outside bootleg DVD shops and chefs sitting out the back of their restaurants, picking at their feet whilst dumplings sizzle in a wok. It is not until we began experiencing aspects of everyday life in China that the culture shock truly revealed itself.

Supermarkets were a huge challenge. Very few goods are decipherable or even remotely recognisable. The instinctive travellers fallback options of bread, cheese and pasta with tomato-based sauce were simply not an option here.

However, the pace of change is rapid. Western style junk food is making a growing appearance. In several cities swathes of inner city hutongs are being demolished apace to make way for shopping and tourist areas built in traditional Chinese style. In the absence of democracy, it seems you can get things done fast.

So back to Peter. Enthralled by each and every stamp in our passports, he explained that for most, Chinese familial and Party duty still dictate life. The government assigned Peter and his wife jobs upon graduating - in different cities. ‘Why don’t you move?’ we asked. Smiling reticently, he explained that only with government permission or money can you move. School and hospital fees, dependent parents and controlled wages all mean moving is not an option.

Most Chinese have never seen a foreigner; even fewer have ever talked to one. Only at the end did we learn that in 11 years, having taught himself English, this had only been Peter’s third English conversation ever.