1 Deen-That song again?

'That song again?' I rolled my eyes in exasperation.

She was probably listening to that annoying song for the hundredth time. Seriously, does she not get tired of listening to the same band over and over again? Mee took the headphones out of her ears.

'I can't help it,' she exclaimed. 'It's my favorite song!'

'Yeah but you don't have to cry every time you listen to it,' I replied. 'It's embarrassing.'

She gave me an incredulous look. 'Kid, you're seven,' she scowled. 'You're way too young to understand the deep meaning behind the lyrics.'

'Says the 20 something year old who doesn't even understand the song's language,' I said sarcastically.

'In my defense, I know the meaning of their Korean songs and this one is Japanese!'

'You didn't even know Korean till last year!'

'Kid, at least I passed the test with distinction.'

'Yes,' I said. 'And then you found out that most of those songs' lyrics make no sense.'

Mee crossed her arms and pouted. Why are adults so childish? Or it was probably just Mee. She can be quite the drama queen. I was glad to be a kid.

Mee checked her watch. We had been standing outside the airport for over fifteen minutes with our luggage. The five hour flight was exhausting and worse, it was really chilly outside. I was wearing three layers of clothes and I was still shivering badly. I rubbed my hands for warmth. Mee put another scarf around me.

'Stand close by,' she said.

'So, where's the lady who was supposed to pick us up?' I whined. 'It's cold! I'm free-ee-zing.'

'Not sure,' Mee said checking her watch again.

Mee's teacher, Professor Ahn, gave her the contact details of some lady called Mrs. Jung after she got a job at a Korean company. Mrs. Jung had an empty house which she wanted to rent out. Mee immediately contacted her. It took a while for them to reach a settlement on rent, but it all worked out. Strangely, things always worked out for us. Somehow.

'She was supposed to be here by now,' Mee said, looking a bit concerned. 'Oh, there she comes.'

She pointed at a large middle aged woman wearing an oversized hat and bright pink dress. She was waving at us. To me, she looked like a pink frog. Yes. A pink frog. I was a kid with wild imagination. Sue me. Mee picked up our bags and motioned me to follow her closely.

'Annyeongaseo,' Mee said in Korean, bowing down. 'I am Mia. Are you Mrs. Jung?'

'Oh,' the woman said in surprise. 'You speak Hangul well.' Clearly, she did not expect Mee to know the language.

'Deen,' Mee whispered. 'Say hello!'

'Anneyeong,' I greeted.

'Hello little one,' the woman said fondly. 'What is your name?'

'Deen,' I replied. 'Thank you for having us. Please take care of us.'

I bowed down to her politely.

'I see you two are well behaved,' Mrs. Jung said in appreciation. 'The last tenants were just terrible. They couldn't even behave properly! Such a rude bunch. No respect for our culture.'

'To us, it is very important to properly learn the customs of the country we are about to live in,' Mee said with a wide smile. 'Thank you for having us.'

'Don't worry about it,' Mrs. Jung replied. 'Any friend of Professor Ahn is welcome. And gracious, you two must be tired. I have a cab waiting for us. Let me take you to your new home.'

'Thank you,' Mee said. 'Come on champ,' she said to me in English. 'Let's go.'