Imagine a high-rise office building in New York, Chicago, or Los Angeles. At the end of a day Hispanic workers pile into an elevator. While descending, the elevator gets stuck.

In this claustrophobic situation the characters panic. One of them uses his cell phone to learn there's a citywide power outage. Abruptly, a Mexican, Carlos, starts singing the mariachi classic, "Alla en el Rancho Grande." Before you know it, other voices belt out the heartthrob, "Por un Beso."

Soon the conversation gets heated and shifts to various stories that have brought these Latinos to the United States. Raul's parents fled Cuba on a boat after Castro took power. He's fed up with illegal aliens. It may be that Maria's English is as good as his, but she was born in El Salvador. Ironically, Carlos, in severely broken English, becomes the spokesman for immigrants who "come to this country because. . .the money." Alas, Carlos's linguistically challenged speech is trite and longwinded.

Mr. Martinez, a white-collar Argentine-American exec, succeeds in calming the crowd. He is so far removed from his native tongue, though, that when the elevator regains power and opens its doors on the ground floor, he says. "Hasta luego, my amigos" in grating standard English.

This microcosm of what could be called the Latino-ization of America is perhaps a breakthrough for public radio. Spanish phrases, at least one of them off-color and many of them barely decipherable, pepper the piece. The mini-drama represents a complement of cinema verite, a kind of "radio verite."

One thing is sure: distinct Hispanic groups with widely diverse cultures salute different banners and "miss their flags." But they occupy the same upwardly mobile Otis elevator car trapped in North America.