Ai Weiwei's Beijing studio is surrounded by mysterious construction and at least two security cameras are nearby. (CBC News)

Even before arriving at the home of one China's most celebrated activists, there were rules to follow. All communication between Ai Weiwei's people had to be done through email. Conversations on cell phones are a no-no, because someone is always listening.

Ai Weiwei lives in one of the art districts of Beijing. Arriving by car, we spot a parked dark vehicle without a licence plate -- code for "this car belongs to plainclothed police."In fact the driver of the car checked us out from a distance. But left us alone.

We noticed at least two surveillance cameras on the street. They are trained directly at the gated entrance to Ai Weiwei's home.

There's some construction going on directly in front of the house too, with workers not looking that busy. Are THEY undercover police? In China, it's hard not to become a little suspicious.

In the Chinese language, the characters for "river crab" sound like the word "harmony." (CBC News)

Once inside, Ai's assistant greets us. She's Canadian and is envious when we tell her of the summer-like temperatures in eastern Canada.

Ai himself is an imposing figure with his trademark salt and pepper beard. He quietly greets us and the interview gets underway.

His spacious dwelling is crawling with well-fed cats -- we counted at least a dozen. And there's Danny, Ai's aging cocker spaniel who's been part of his chaotic life for 15 years.

On the long wooden table where we've placed our recording device for the interview there are six little figurines in the shape of river crabs. In the Chinese language, the characters for "river crab" sound like the word "harmony."

Is Ai Weiwei being ironic, or is it just wishful thinking on his part?

-- CBC News