Country borders usually conjure up an image of austere soldiers on each side watching their counterparts suspiciously from a distance. But the real situation at the Chinese border outpost with the Democratic People's Republic of Korea near Yunfeng Dam, in Northeast China's Jilin province, is quite different.

Here three Chinese soldiers stand in a line facing their counterparts from the DPRK, with just a narrow gap between them marking the change of territory.

The dam, part of the hydroelectric power plant in Ji'an, was built by both China and the DPRK in the 1960s to supply people living on both sides of the Yalu River, the waterway running between the two countries.

As someone raised in a small town, I see the word border as coming with an image of solemn soldiers forbidden from smiling while on duty.

So my first question on meeting the Chinese border guards was, "Do you talk to the DPRK soldiers?"

"Of course," a soldier replied, looking out of the dormitory window toward the DPRK outpost just meters away.

In fact communication between soldiers on each side runs deep. They meet regularly to discuss how to maintain a secure border and an ethnic Korean soldier was recruited by the Chinese troop to aid the dialogue.

"When we are on duty, sometimes they will ask us how to pronounce a Chinese word as they are keen to learn and we learn Korean expressions from them," said a Chinese soldier.

On one occasion, the Chinese troops received news that it was the birthday of one of their Korean counterparts and had a cake sent across the border as a surprise.

"The Korean soldier was deeply touched," said Yu Tao, the Chinese outpost's commanding officer.

Sometimes, when they are off duty, soldiers on one side of the border play guitar while the other side sing.

The stereotypical impression of a soldier is of someone who is tough but not good with people, but the reality at the border post is far removed from this. It is crucial for the soldiers here to be good communicators, capable of engaging with both their counterparts across the border and with tourists visiting the dam, who often try to take photographs of the Korean side, despite it being forbidden.

"We also have to stop people from crossing the border," Yu said.

"We once had tourists who were drunk and said they wanted to cross the border anyway. We gave them some hot water and took them to our dormitory to take a rest."

Jilin has about 1,500 kilometers of border, mostly with the DPRK, but also with Russia.

I visited another outpost near Hunchun, a small city in the Yanbian Korean autonomous prefecture where a watchtower offers a bird's eye view of China, the DPRK and Russia.

The tasks of a border guard here run beyond keeping people from crossing without permission. Cattle sometimes cross from Russia to China, or vice versa, and the soldiers on both sides round them up and send them home again.

Soldiers also accompany farmers to the mountains when they go to pick vegetables, to ensure they do not accidentally stray across the border.

"Without good communication, it would not be that easy," said Wang Qinghong, another soldier.

Russian and Chinese soldiers at the border show respect and trust for each other. They foster this through regular visits and joint activities.

"Sometimes we play basketball, just like good neighbors," said Wang.

There is a Western proverb that says: "Good fences make good neighbors."

But the reality I found along China's borders was that a fence cannot guarantee peace without good communication.