A Conversation With Two Somali Girls About My Cellphone

Do you have a Blackberry? Ubah wants to know. (She's eight.)
I laugh: No.
What about an iPhone? asks Khadra. (She's nine.)
Uh, no.
Droid?
No.
Then what do you have?
I don't know, I say.
(I don't. Whatever it is, it's pay-as-you go and currently buried, uncharged, at the bottom of my handbag.)
Ubah tries another angle: What's your service? AT&T?
No.
Verizon? asks Khadra.
No.
Hmmm, Ubah says. Sprint?
No.
They pause to consider.
Who made your phone? Khadra asks craftily.
I don't know.
Motorola?
No.
I know, I know, says Ubah. Samsung!
I don't think so.
Well then, how big is it?
Pretty big, I say.
Ubah makes a square with her fingers, about two-and-a-half inches across. Bigger than that?
Much.
Really? she says.
Yeah. It's not a flip-phone.
It's not a flip-phone? they both ask, horrified.