Wow, check out these excerpts from an exJW blog, telling her story, about her missionary work, first in Vancouver, then in China. Very credible. It's a *must-read*, so here's a good taste:
http://www.believermag.com/issues/201302/?read=article_scorah
... When I got to China, things were really different, by necessity. Pro-selytizing is illegal. Religious meetings are banned. The preaching work and congregation meetings have to be conducted underground. This means that the handful of Witnesses in Shanghai can meet only covertly, which makes seeing each other more than once a week next to impossible. Preaching in the usual structured, door-to-door fashion is also, obviously, out of the question. For me, a Witness accustomed to a life of uniform routine, this seemed like an unprecedented adventure.
A couple of weeks after I arrived in Shanghai, I received a cryptic text message from a man who called himself James (some of us used fake names; we knew the Chinese government monitored electronic correspondence). He proposed meeting in a noisy local restaurant in the French Concession. I called his number when I got to the restaurant and he waved so I would know him. We chatted a few minutes, then he immediately got down to business. With a practiced manner, he explained the instructions from the branch office of Jehovah’s Witnesses as to how to conduct my missionary work. I was to find a job, perhaps teaching English, as a cover. Then I was to start cultivating relationships with worldly people, both Chinese and Westerners. These friendships were to be made with the sole purpose of religious conversion.
This sounded crazy to me. Every day of my life I’d been taught to stay away from these people, and I had. I was the person who made excuses not to lunch with coworkers. Who never kissed the boy who loved me in high school. I was the one who didn’t join after-school sports or attend birthday parties or my prom, all for fear of contamination. But I had my instructions; there was no other choice.
...
Brother James recommended that before bringing up anything about the Bible with one of our new friends, we find out if that person or their family was affiliated with the Communist Party. Anyone who was a party member posed a potential danger, and contact was to be cut off immediately; a party member might turn in a Witness out of loyalty to the regime. On the other hand, it was also said that some people became party members simply to qualify for certain jobs, meaning they were communist in name only, and thus not as risky to befriend. I tried to casually return the conversation to Jean’s family.
...
When I hung out with these worldly people, it was hard to shake the feeling that I was doing something wrong. They swore, they smoked, some of them drank a lot. They often made references to things I didn’t get. I didn’t understand their innuendos, and I hadn’t read their books or seen their movies. But I was a quick study. I had to play along; I didn’t want to blow my cover, and besides, it was interesting to learn about their lives. I was following my orders to a tee, and all of this could be done guilt-free.
In addition to my new school friends, I scheduled time each day to look for Chinese people to talk to. I’d sit in restaurants, hang out in Huaihai Park, read books in public squares, or hop on subways and buses, offering fast friendship to anyone patient or chatty enough to put up with my broken Chinese. I prayed for God’s help, but it was easy to find people who were interested in a foreigner, especially one who knew some Chinese.
Jean became my first Bible student.
...
I realized I was leading Jean down a path that was potentially criminal and that would mean, if all went well, that she would become an underground enemy of the state, have to limit ties with her family, cut off her friends, and likely not marry or have children—Witnesses could not marry outside their faith, and there were very few Witnesses in mainland China—but I felt this was a small price for Jean to pay to have the truth. If I could convert her, she could survive Armageddon.
I still had to be careful. I wasn’t supposed to tell her where I lived. At first we would meet for our study sessions in public parks, until one humid day when I noticed two men in polyester suits vigorously snapping photos of us. We separated, and I took the subway in the wrong direction home, just to be safe. After that, I treated Jean to coffee at various Western cafés, but never the same one two weeks in a row. I taped gift wrap over the covers of our Watchtower publications so people couldn’t see what they were.
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This newspaper article from The Glasgow Herald, 1960 ... re 2 JWS arrested and imprisoned for their subversive activities: