It could happen just about any time you step out in public. You get onto an almost-empty bus, but the next passenger in decides to ignore dozens of empty seats to sit right next to you. While you're waiting in line at a supermarket, the next customer insists on standing only two inches behind you and shouting into his cell-phone. You go into a public restroom, and the next person to enter decides to use the next stall. Transgressions(冒犯) like these don't just make us feel uncomfortable; we often feel anxious, alarmed; and violated(被侵犯的). It is the attack of the personal-space invaders.

    In any society, shared definitions of personal space govern how we interact with other people. People living in densely(密集地) populated cities like Mumbai, Beijing, or Mexico City tend to require less personal space than people living in sparsely(稀少地) populated places within the country. In America, New Yorkers often have smaller requirements than residents of western states, like Montana, Shenandoah and Wyoming. Because everyone has different standards, gestures that are innocent in one place can be interpreted as opposite in another, especially in Britain.

    As the British etiquette(礼仪) website Debrett puts it, as a British person, somebody standing too close may make you "focus less on what somebody is saying than on how close they are to you". Simple acts like putting an arm around someone you don't know may seem friendly in China, but they can make us very uncomfortable. People from many European countries such as France and Spain kiss each other on the cheek when they meet, yet to British person, this seems too friendly and "touch-freely". The website explains! "The British are not backslappers(拍人后背的人) and generally do not show affection in public".

    Are British people unfriendly? Far from it. The website adds that they are not as "stand-offish and aloof' as they may seem, but very friendly and helpful to foreigners. However, remember not to be too close. If you are going to come closer than an arm's length, please let them know.

    Why not write in a foreign language? If people feel free to choose their profession, their religion, and even their sex, why not just decide which language you want to write? Ever since Jhumpa published In Other Words in Italian, people have been asking me, “Why don't you write in Italian, Tim? After all, you've been in the country 35 years. What keeps you tied to English?” Is it just a question of economic convenience?

    Certainly economics can be important. It was the factor that pushed Conrad to abandon his Polish mother tongue. If it is not possible to publish at home, or to publish there as one would wish to publish, then one is likely to go elsewhere. And if to publish elsewhere one has to change language, then some authors are willing to take that step.

    Something of the same logic has driven many writers from Africa, Asia to write in French and English in recent years. There is also the fact that people in Europe and the West are interested in the countries they grew up in. Just as in the nineteenth century, novelists like Thomas Hardy could “sell” their familiarity with peasant life to a middle-class metropolitan public, so these writers have interested us with stories that might seem common in their home countries.

    There is also a real internationalism in the decision to change language. If you have “a message” and if English is the language that offers maximum spread, then it would seem appropriate to use it.

    All these make sense. Critics tend to pay attention only to those who have made a success of writing in a new language. In April 2014, a New York Times article essentially listed young literary stars who had switched to writing in the main Western languages. At this point, the native English speaker almost begins to feel at a disadvantage for having been born into the dominant culture. Should we perhaps head for Paris, like Beckett or Jonathan Littell, just to be between two worlds? Or look for something more exotic(异国的) and have ourselves translated back into English afterward? However, one fact is that changing languages doesn't always work.

    I did write a novel in Italian. But after rereading it, I decided against it. My work lost power with the switch of language. My real subject matter still had to do with England and it was to my home culture that my books were addressed. The second language never seems to mean quite as much as the first. In any event, after my early experiment, I never went back to write in Italian. Changing language is not the only way to bring energy to your writing.

    I log onto a computer at the doctor's office to say I have arrived and then wait until a voice calls me into the examination room.

    There, a robotic nurse directs me onto a device and then takes my blood pressure. Some time later, in steps the doctor, who is also a robot. He notes down my symptoms and gives me a prescription (处方). I pay for my visit using a credit card machine and return home without having met another human being.

    When I call my dentist's office and actually get a human being on the line, I am thrilled. And when I see the introduction of yet more self-service checkout stations at the grocery store, I feel like shouting, “When it comes to cashiers, make mine human, please!”

    After all, human cashiers sometimes give you a store coupon (优惠券) for items you are buying. Even more than that, real-life cashiers often take an interest in particularly cute children, which can brighten a young mother's day. A cashier may also show compassion (同情) for an elderly person struggling to get that last penny out of her purse.

    What technological device would do any of this? I don't want to go back to the Stone Age, but I'm also worried about a world run by machines. Sometimes when you're chatting with someone, you discover things you need to know. Maybe a receptionist needs prayers said for a sick child. Maybe a salesperson can offer a bit of encouragement to a customer who is feeling tired.

Machines can be efficient and cost-effective and they often get the job done just fine. But they lack an element so important to everyday life.

    Call it the spirit, the soul or the heart. It is something no machine will ever have. It is being human that prompts us to smile at others, which may be what they need at that moment.

The Power of Sound

The music of world-famous guitarist Gabriel Ayala can make you cheer or cry depending on the chords（弦）. As the winner of numerous musical honors, he said," I love the power of sound.

    He was also recently named Native American Music Awards Artist of the Year and he played at the inauguration（就职典礼）of President Barack Obama.

"My concerts are a journey for both my audiences and myself," he says. "Feelings and emotions are all over the board and I am the tool trying to convey those feelings, trying to paint a visual picture through chord changes. Sound conveys power, whether it's a well-performed craze or the wind blowing through the trees. Music isn't just a pretty melody also it's a visual performance that captures moments in life and puts them to music."

    Ayala also shares his gift with kids As a teacher with a master's degree he serves as an advocate（提倡者）for youth education by being a role model. He practices the philosophy of honoring elders, respecting women and loving children. He delivers a message lo youth that they can become whatever they dream of.

The music man has recently launched a non-profit foundation to work more closely with youngsters "I've been blessed in both my career and life and feel I need to give back to pay my respect and hanks for the gift I have owned and I can do that through music," he says.

    One of his experiences in giving back involved a high school class of some 200, which included a special needs group. I used my guitar as a tool to capture their interest and once I began playing, the whole behaviors of the class changed in a positive way. This was especially so for one of the disabled students whose hands would not allow him to even hold my costly guitar.

    When I put the valuable guitar in his lap and he started beating the heck out of it as hard as he could, there wasn't a dry eye in the house. That's the real reason I play music, not for fame or fortune but because music has the power to truly heal. The look on that boy's face was priceless.

    I began to grow up that winter night when my parents and I were returning from my aunt's house, and my mother said that we might soon be leaving for America. We were on the bus then. I was crying, and some people on the bus were turning around to look at me. I remember that I could not bear the thought of never hearing again the radio program for school children to which I listened every morning.

    I do not remember myself crying for this reason again. In fact, I think I cried very little when I was saying goodbye to my friends and relatives. When we were leaving I thought about all the places I was going to see—the strange and magical places I had known only from books and pictures. The country I was leaving and never to come back was hardly in my head then.

    The four years that followed taught me the importance of optimism（乐观）, but the idea did not come to me at once. For the first two years in New York I was really lost—having to study in three schools as a result of family moves. I did not quite know what I was or what I should be. Mother remarried, and things became even more complex for me. Some time passed before my stepfather and I got used to each other. I was often sad, and saw no end to “the hard times.”

    My responsibilities in the family increased a lot since I knew English better than everyone else at home. I wrote letters, filled out forms, translated at interviews with Immigration officers（移民局官员）, took my grandparents to the doctor and translated there, and even discussed telephone bills with company representatives.

    From my experiences I have learned one important rule: Almost all common troubles go away at last! Something good is certain to happen in the end when you do not give up, and just wait a little! I believe that my life will turn out all right, even though it will not be that easy.

    2.26-meter-tall Yao Ming made his NBA debut (初次登台) on October 23, 2002 and got 6 points for the Houston Rockets in the game. The next day, he got 13 points in another game.

    Most people think that Yao Ming is a born basketball player. But Yao said, "When you watch it on TV, it looks very easy. But when you are playing in the NBA, it is really not so easy." He said that joining the Houston Rockets was a new start and a new challenge. "I hope that through very hard work I can make everyone happy and help the Rockets win more games," he said. Yao Ming speaks some English. Both he and his teammates can understand each other. They don't think there is a language problem. While Yao Ming faces this new challenge, the people of Houston have shown great interest in him and they hope Yao Ming will bring new energy to the Rockets. The team has started having lessons to learn more about China, and many people who work for the Rockets have learned to speak some Chinese.