Today, nobody talks to anybody anymore. Everybody is always staring at their phone without caring about anything. But sometimes, there are unexpected moments of connection.

It happened upon one just the other night. I was going home after school, taking the subway as usual and was glad to get a seat. I took out my phone and started reading. Then I noticed that nobody was sitting on the three seats across from me, which was impossible at ordinary times.

I quickly figured out why. Next to the empty seats was an old woman. She smelled as though she hadn’t bathed in a few days. Her pale face and tangles of gray hair showed that she had suffered a lot. Even in such a cold day, she was in torn and dusty clothes. I was about to continue my reading when a young man stood up from his seat, sent some cash into her hand, and then quickly sat back down. His acts woke up some people who were buried in their phones. She nodded gratefully and gave a bright smile back to him. He started talking to her from the door. “Grandmother,” he called her, “Are you okay?” More people looked up from their phone, waiting for her response. After more nods, the carriage (车厢) was quiet again.

Just before the kind gentleman got off, he made an unexpected announcement. “I just got married to my fiancee in City Hall.” This broke the silence in the carriage just now. There was a short round of applause from this group of strangers. “Congratulations,” someone even called out. He called to the smelly old lady with concern, “Wish you could be as happy as me today. I think it’s a perfect start to my marriage.”

Inspired by his words, some others in the carriage also came over to the old lady.

I put my phone away and started searching my bag.

It’s been over 40 years since I rode a bike on Saturday afternoons. But I bought myself a bike for Christmas this year. As one of the children growing up in the country, I had never had a bike of my own. Dad had managed to save an old bike from the local waste yard and gave it to me. But I found it hard to love the second-hand bike, which didn’t even have a proper seat.

Before I bought myself a bike, I didn’t think riding a bike was my thing. I was in my sixties and therefore I thought I was too old to start something new and possibly dangerous. And I often asked myself questions: Would my body cope with this tiring sport? Would I be truly willing to spend hundreds of dollars only to leave the thing in the garage (车库) until it will finally be broken? Would I be safe on the road?

But then I read an interview with Cadel Evans, a winner of the Tour de France, about his annual charity work for bike riders. He said cycling is good for our heart and muscles and that it will improve our body if done regularly. It’s also a good way for us to go outside and exercise. More importantly, he said his mother still chose to ride in a 65km race at an old age and that she didn’t feel fear while riding. Reading this, I felt inspired and I wanted to be just like his mother. Then I headed to the bike shop immediately and there was no turning back.

There were different kinds of bikes in the shop. I tried many of those bikes but they were just not what I wanted. Then I saw an amazing blue bike at the comer of the shop. That was it. I was happy that I found “my bike”. And it felt right the first time I sat on it. So it didn’t take me much time to make my choice. I bought it though it was expensive.

It didn’t fit in the back of my car, so I rode it home.

I’ve completely fallen in love with this sport.

On the morning of July 14, 1960, the young woman Jane Goodall arrived at the Gombe National Park. She had brought a tent, a cup, a pair of binoculars and her mother. A group of local men met the strange pair of women and helped carry their camping equipment. Then, around 5 pm, somebody reported that they had seen a chimpanzee. Straight away, Jane set off into the forest to find her first chimpanzee.

After many months of difficult work she made three important discoveries: chimpanzees ate meat, they used tools to get food and they also made tools, Jane wrote her findings in diaries and she began to publish articles in journals such as National Geographic magazine. After a while, scientists and experts started reading her studies and Jane was offered a place at a university. After more years of research she became Doctor Jane Goodall in 1966.

During the seventies, Jane found that chimpanzees can also be violent. She wrote in one diary,“ I thought the chimps were nicer than we are. But it is proved that they are not. They can be just as awful”

A different problem developed in Gombe in the 1980s. Because of the progress of clearing forests, there were only about a hundred chimpanzees living in Gombe by the end of ten years. Jane realized that something had to be done so that chimpanzees and humans could live together, so she set about helping the local community to grow more trees in the region.

After 1989, Jane left her career in Gombe. Firstly, she started travelling and giving lectures. She protested (反对) about the cruelty to chimpanzees used in medical research laboratories. She also set up reserves for chimps which survived.

Nowadays, she spends about 300 days a year giving interviews, talks and lectures, meeting with government officials and raising money for the Jane Goodall Institute, which continues her research. She has very little spare time left but she still spends part of every year in the forest in Gombe, watching her chimpanzees.

I have a confession (坦白) to make, and the sooner it gets out in the open, the better I’ll feel about it. I don’t drive a car.

Americans are broad-minded people. They will accept the fact that a person can be an alcoholic, a dope fiend (瘾君子), a wife beater, and even a newspaperman, but if a man does not drive, there is something wrong with him. Through the years I’ve found it very embarrassing to admit it to anyone and my best friends tend to view me with distrust and disapproval.

But where I really run into trouble is when I go into a store and try to make a purchase with a check.

It happened again last week when I went to a discount house at a large shopping center in Maryland. I wanted to buy a portable type writer, and the salesman was very helpful about showing me the different models. I decided on one, and then I said, “May I write out a personal check?”

“Naturally,” he said kindly. “Do you have any identification?”

“Of course,” I said. I produced an American express credit card, a Diner’s club credit card, a Bell telephone credit card, and my pass to the White House.

The man inspected them all and then said, “Where’s your driver’s license?”

“I don’t have one,” I replied.

“Did you lose it?”

“No, I didn’t lose it. I don’t drive a car.” He pushed a button under the cash register, and suddenly a floor manager came rushing over.

The salesman had now become surly. “This guy’s trying to cash a check, and he doesn’t have a driver’s license. Should I call the store detective?”

“Wait a minute. I’ll talk to him,” the manager said.

By this time the president of the store had arrived on the scene.