Taking photographs of people is never easy. The camera's lens is a large, scrutinizing eye that can make some feel self-conscious and uncomfortable. If you want to snap Chinese people as they go about their daily lives, it is a matter of respect to try to understand how they think and not breach etiquette. Tactics, in other words.

The most obvious cultural difference between Chinese and Western photographers is in what subject matter they find interesting. A photographer friend of mine living in Shanghai gave me perhaps the clearest example: On the city's famous Bund, Chinese shutterbugs jostle to shoot the modern skyline east, dominated as it is by the futuristic Pearl Oriental Tower and the pagoda-like Jin Mao Tower; while foreign visitors make a beeline west to capture the old part of town with its colonial-era buildings and historical sights.

The main reason for this discrepancy is that Chinese people are proud of the rapid modernization of their country in recent years and have an interest in the new that borders on obsession. For Western observers, a foreign-designed office building such as the Jin Mao is of little interest. They seek out the unique and unfamiliar which in this global village is usually found in the past.

What appears authentic and interesting to a Westerner may be considered backward and even shameful to a Chinese person. So it was with a man who waved me and my camera away from a humble marketplace where ruddy women gutted chickens by hand, flinging offal left and right with assembly-line efficiency.

Although fitting in is something of a lost cause for a European in China, the first step is to at least try to interact. A newly-purchased bagful of oranges on your arm will show you aren't just at the local market to take photos without giving anything back.

It's worth bearing in mind that some people may not consider the jobs they perform worthy of respect and are therefore unwilling to be photographed going about their daily grind. Personally, I suspect that if Beijing's street-sweepers were all to disappear overnight the effects would be a lot quicker to notice than if I did but that doesn't mean they'll necessarily welcome me sticking my camera in their faces without a by your leave. Again, interaction is the key. A few respectful words of conversation sweeten the deal for when the camera comes out.

Conversely, you may be struck by how willing some Chinese people are to have their photo taken. While shooting synchronized morning exercises at a middle school recently, one young fellow seemed to think that he alone deserved the limelight and sidled into the frame un-abashed. I'm now the proud owner of a head-and-shoulders portrait of a mugging teenage boy.

For many Chinese people, photography exists mainly to create a record of points of pride. They will hardly be surprised if you can't wait to snap their beauty contest-winning baby or elegant Pekinese, a good starting point to pan out and include a few local characters in the shot.

As is only right and fair, I got a taste of my own medicine on my last photographic stop: Beijing's 798 Art District. The numerous camera-wielding Chinese art tourists had no qualms whatsoever in snapping me as I explored the locale. I have to admit that was a strange experience. After all, I'm no oil painting.