Soon the chorus became louder as Rain's mother joined in, then his aunt and young cousins, their hands clapping, their feet tapping in time.

My stomach must have stretched a mile as I wrapped slices of succulent skin and duck topped with scallion and a dollop of plum sauce in paper-thin pancakes and popped them into my mouth.

I was seated in the middle as guest of honour, and all eyes were on me as I ate until I could eat no more. What a meal! But the night was far from over.

When we got back to the apartment, there was more food to eat and tea to wash it down.

Although Rain did a creditable job of translating, it was a bit frustrating that the parents and I couldn't speak to each other directly. After dinner, and without any indication, the language barrier was about to come down.

Carrying a kitchen chair, Rain's father who is in his mid 40s walked across the room, sat directly in front of me, and started humming a tune. I recognized it immediately, the melody of a well known Australian folk song, Click Go The Shears. As I struggled to join him, trying to remember the words, he sang them in Chinese, his voice rich in resonance and in perfect pitch.

I think this was the only Australian folk song he knew. However, when I sang the Aussie folk song that the whole world knows, "Waltzing Matilda," he was very quick to pick up the tune.

Then he introduced other well known songs, some of which I also knew.

By now we were producing a bi-lingual harmony of voices previously unable to communicate. If our words sounded different, at least the melodies were the same. Soon the chorus became louder as Rain's mother joined in, then his aunt and young cousins, their hands clapping, their feet tapping in time.

I expected neighbours to knock on the door, asking us to keep the noise down. They would have seen the breakdown of a communication barrier using the one language everyone shares - music.

I have gone back to their home many times since that evening, and we are now more than just casual friends. When my younger son and daughter visited China for the first time last year, they were also invited, and everyone "got on like a house on fire." It has been made clear that we are now part of their family, and I have welcomed them into mine.

At first, the gap was wide. Now, several months later, not only music, but spoken words of English and Chinese, flow under a bridge of love and understanding. Like that of the man on the bus, our continuing "performance" is real.

Editor:Xiong Qu