I had occasion to go across town today. The store provided mobile ‘phone service among other things. As I stood there, young mothers barely out of their teens, if that, with babies on their hips  came in to buy airtime — for cash. A fellow, who looked like a day laborer, came by to get his ‘phone charged. His language skills consisted of pointing at his ‘phone and then drawing a line across his throat to indicate that it was dead. The customers were Hispanic with very limited English, obviously without bank accounts, or Internet at home. The shopkeeper was Chinese with equally little English. Everyone was very friendly, very courteous, very pleasant, very neighborly. And this white guy from the other side of town sat there thinking I really do live in a bubble. I just assume when I go into a store that everyone will speak fluent English. I have no problem keeping my phones charged — well, if I remember. I buy airtime on the Internet. And, I have neighbors that I don’t see from one month to the next! My brief acquaintances from across town live in the same country, the same town, and yet I know so very, very little about their lives. Each in our own little bubble!