The last week of summer...

This past week was the last week before actually beginning classes. I saw Jean Robert, a class mate and documentary film director, for the last time before he went back to Paris (we had a Japanese style all-you-can-eat hot pot and grill). I went to the government office to sign up for my Alien Registration Card. Mr. Zhang took me to the grocery store (huge, but I couldn't find any canned tomatoes).
On Friday I went to ShiDa, the university I will be going to, for the orientation meeting and to find out my schedule. I managed to arrive at the red-brick building where the meeting took place on time, but I didn't have time to get a coffee before arriving. So you can imagine the headache I had during the whole meeting (OK, I admit, I'm addicted to caffeine.)
After the meeting, which IMO didn't have anything really interesting to say, I went downstairs to get a coffee before getting my schedule and books. I figured by the time I got back upstairs the long line for the schedules would have disappeared.
I ordered a 'bing' (iced) coffee at the small cafe downstairs and sipped it slowly, visualising the receptors in my brain which were firing up after getting a healthy dose of caffeine. Magic.
But when I returned back to the fifth floor, surprise, there was still a super long line which I had to wait in. I saw a guy who looked completely lost, and saw others try to talk to him in English and show him where to go. Still clueless. He fixed his gaze on me and then asked me in French "do you know where I need to go?"
I quickly translated everything the other person had said in English. "Orientation is over there," I said, pointing towards the door.
"Yeah, I bet the orientation is in English too!" He replied.
"And Chinese!" I joked.
That was weird. How did he know I was French?
Anyway, after I finally got my schedule, I went upstairs to get my books. I looked at the paper. Dammit! I start classes at 8:10AM! I'm not sure what my level is but my book says level 3, so it can't be that bad. I mean, I had been worrying that either a) they noticed I had taken two years of university-level Chinese, so would put me in a super difficult class, or b) they noticed how I bombed the evaluation test, and would put me in a beginner's class. But it seems they put me in a class which is not too difficult but still challenging (to be confirmed in the near future).
This weekend I tried to practice some more traditional characters, looked at my textbook a little, and got fed chou (stinky) tofu by Mr. Zhang. I had asked him about the restaurant downstairs, and he said he didn't know if it was any good but that he could make me some. So on Saturday I tried it. The tofu, which looks and smells like a fresh cow patty (OK, actually it only smells like one), doesn't taste so bad, a bit like a spongy fermented cheese.
Today, to return the favor, I made spaghetti bolognese for Mr. Zhang, his son, and his mother (who came over for lunch). We talked in Chinese most of the time, which is good practice for me. I have no idea what the old lady is saying though, she just says stuff to me and laughs. I can't wait to speak Chinese well enough to understand because she seems to be having a hoot.