I used to deliver rolls of fabric imported from Mexico to a warehouse in Brooklyn where no two employees spoke the same language. It was a good run, Laredo, Texas to New York brought me through my home in Greensboro, North Carolina twice a week, and racked up more miles than running west coast.
In that warehouse were almost a dozen men who couldn't talk
to one another. I asked the man who owned and managed
the business, an Orthodox Jewish man, about it. "I can speak
every one of their languages," he said. "They can't talk to anyone but
me. Less talk means more work gets done."
I must admit, they were quite fast at loading and unloading trailers.