Begginnigs of China

To start describing my experiences in China I figure I might as well start describing the internet cafe where I am writing from. It is called an "Internet Coffee" and I'm not sure if that is a joke kind of like how I am not sure about most of what is going on around me. The room is completely packed with probably 100 people but is amazingly well-organized although dimly lit.
I've been in Beijing for three days now and literally everything is in Chinese. I find myself suddenly empathizing with immigrants to the U.S. who are forced to learn the language on the spot. In India I could always find someone who spoke english and even the rickshaw drivers know a handful of phrases. Now in China I am completely dependant on my Chinese-speaking friends and when I had to take a taxi someone had to write the address for where I was goiong in Chinese to the cab driver and then we sat in absolute silence for the entire cab ride.
As for my accomodation I was one of the few students randomly picked to live in a traditional hutong house. The hutong's are alleyway neigborhoods that were originally constructed so workers could live while building the forbidden city. They are all over 100 years old and the ones in Beijing are slowly being demolished in favor of more modern high-rises. The house is interesting as their are several dwellings intertwined and the kitchen and the mother and fathers room are seperated from the room where the son and the two americans are living. We have to walk outside in order to go to the kitchen for dinner.
The family I am staying with is really nice. The son Jack knows english pretty well from school and the mother Amy has been studying English for the past 6months and is amazingly conversational for someone who has only been studying for such a short amount of time. She has an amazing amount of energy and is very keen to practice English with us. She is also a very good cook and I am lucky enough to have two of her meals a day.
I am beginning to learn a few Chinese phrases but it is difficult although necessarry to get around. Different tones give what seems like the same word to my simple ears different meanings. In addition to my difficulties with the language my chopstick use is another source of comedy for my host family.
In my letter to all of the host families in all three countries I mentioned that I played frisbee. The word translates into Chinese as flying pan so Amy was trying to understand the game and demonstrated by pretending to throw a bowl through the kitchen.