A little more than a week ago we met a couple in a cafe in Pinos Altos, a village a few miles up the hill from Silver City (population about 10,000). We exhanged pleasantries, discussed the pros and cons of life in the vicinity (they had moved here a few years ago; we are contemplating it) and exchanged cards. That same evening they came knocking on the door of our RV to mention they were thinking of us in reference to a house they knew about that might be for sale and had a great view (one of our main criteria). They said they could show it to us since they had the keys. We went and looked a few days later without reaching any conclusions. The point is, this sort of thing doesn’t happen in Northern Virginia where we live. If someone did come knocking on our door after a chance encounter in a cafe, our more likely response would be one of suspicion–burglars, stalkers, weirdos, whatever. We invited them to a cookout at a the Buddhist district in Las Cruces, two hours away and they accepted. That might not be so different in Northern Virginia but not necessarily from such a chance encounter. It is, however, exactly the sort of behavior to be expected in the latter day of the law, when people need to hear of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo by whatever means possible.