After attending the panel on Prayer in America, I was talking to Dr Woody Trautman, one of the executive board members of Multifaith Council of Northwest Ohio. I mentioned about my blog and my posts on their events, including their Multifaith Thanksgiving last year.
Then, I received an Email from him, applauding my insight and clarity of expression and expressing his sorrow that I didn't know of and attend their multifaith banquet on March 19 and therefore be able to compose a summary blog (I'm sorry too for missing such an interesting multifaith event, but that week was one of the worst weeks of my overcrammed semester). Then, he proceeded to invite me to their multifaith picnic.
Today, the picnic-content of my blood was high after attending our GSA picnic yesterday, but I felt like going on a second picnic in a row. Well, I love multifaith events and I always enjoy picnics (especially, in the countryside that I knew from my last summer biking expeditions; have a look at the photos in their flyer). The combination of these things was hard to resist. And as these days are probably my last days in Toledo, I take any opportunity to enjoy my time here with people I like. Here we go.
I arrived in there with my bike (he'd kindly offered to arrange for my transportation, but a big part of my fun over such events is the biking). We were told to sign-in and choose a name-tag. There was something more about their name-tags; they were not completely blank. One of the objectives of this picnic was conservancy (the wind-turbine in the farm should give an idea). We were to choose from a variety of themed name-tags marked with energy, recycling, water-bottles, waste-water, etc.
It appears that I'm incorrigible as a former electrical engineer. After contemplating for a while, I chose the energy name-tag and wrote my name. So, after making such a big switch and studying a Master's program in Sociology, I still identify myself with my long-term career (I still subscribe to PC magazine and their weekly newsletter). I hope my nostalgia about engineering, powerplants, control systems, networks, etc. subsides after finishing my PhD in Sociology (though I doubt it).
And my strong identification with my former life is not limited just to a name-tag. Whenever I visit churches and happen to bump into an electrical engineer, I feel ecstatic. First, it was Pastor Habrecht at Gloria Dei Lutheran Church. Then, it was over this year's Interfaith Blood Drive when I discovered that Dr Trautman has got his PhD in electrical engineering from Stanford (and still, he prefers to be simply called Woody). And even today, while I was enjoying the hay-ride, sitting next to a senior fellow with his energy-themed name-tag, I found that he was a retired electrical engineer. And then, our chatting drifted into electrical engineering and then I had to explain about my big switch (engineers and non-engineers alike are surprised about my switch, though it's not such a big deal or big switch to me).
No misunderstanding. I've never been one of those guys who identify themselves with their degree (or other worldly affiliations for that matter). Actually, I hate such superficial shallow people. And I didn't like it when my father (purposefully) teased me over recent years, addressing me by my title instead of my name.
It's just that when you get dirty with something for a long time, you can hardly detach yourself from that. And electrical engineers are generally very passionate about their profession. And sometimes, it even shows in our conversations among ourselves (using technical terms even in our non-technical chats; control system guys are the worst in this respect). Or maybe it's a problem with Generation Y (I'm Generation X though). That could be an interesting research topic for sociologists.
After getting off the tractor-pulled-hay-cart, I got a sweet surprise. They were playing from the loudspeaker (loudspeakers in a countryside picnic at a barn?) one of my favorite songs. And the song was a Persian classical one. That happens when you have a Sufi host (Judy Trautman). Just imagine how I felt hearing that song in an American picnic after being cast-away for a long time from my great collection of classical music (Persian and Western) back in Iran. Although I do not like the singer in person, I enjoy his songs, which are mostly classical with mystic themes and poems. This particular song remained a big hit in Iran for quite some time after he released the album early 1980s. To hear the song (Darse Sahar), click on the headphone icon here or simply click on Dars-e Sahar on this page.
And it appears that I was not the only one fascinated. That was true even with Americans who didn't understand the Persian poem (and I really couldn't translate those difficult words with my current command of English). That's sans-frontier language of music, enchanting all people. Well, except for our announcer guy who found it the best time for his announcements right in the middle of this song. Classical music (Persian or Western) flows best into your soul in a continuum, not something you interrupt once in a while and then catch on. Later on, I asked Judy for a replay and again our announcer cut in.
All in all, I enjoyed my day with interesting people in a very pleasant setting. And I had an opportunity (after such a long time) to watch some sheep, horses and a mule grazing, or to listen to the contented sound of hens enjoying their share of watermelon. But I doubt the swallows enjoyed it all the same way while we invaders from town made so much noise in their barn.
Then, I received an Email from him, applauding my insight and clarity of expression and expressing his sorrow that I didn't know of and attend their multifaith banquet on March 19 and therefore be able to compose a summary blog (I'm sorry too for missing such an interesting multifaith event, but that week was one of the worst weeks of my overcrammed semester). Then, he proceeded to invite me to their multifaith picnic.
Today, the picnic-content of my blood was high after attending our GSA picnic yesterday, but I felt like going on a second picnic in a row. Well, I love multifaith events and I always enjoy picnics (especially, in the countryside that I knew from my last summer biking expeditions; have a look at the photos in their flyer). The combination of these things was hard to resist. And as these days are probably my last days in Toledo, I take any opportunity to enjoy my time here with people I like. Here we go.
I arrived in there with my bike (he'd kindly offered to arrange for my transportation, but a big part of my fun over such events is the biking). We were told to sign-in and choose a name-tag. There was something more about their name-tags; they were not completely blank. One of the objectives of this picnic was conservancy (the wind-turbine in the farm should give an idea). We were to choose from a variety of themed name-tags marked with energy, recycling, water-bottles, waste-water, etc.
It appears that I'm incorrigible as a former electrical engineer. After contemplating for a while, I chose the energy name-tag and wrote my name. So, after making such a big switch and studying a Master's program in Sociology, I still identify myself with my long-term career (I still subscribe to PC magazine and their weekly newsletter). I hope my nostalgia about engineering, powerplants, control systems, networks, etc. subsides after finishing my PhD in Sociology (though I doubt it).
And my strong identification with my former life is not limited just to a name-tag. Whenever I visit churches and happen to bump into an electrical engineer, I feel ecstatic. First, it was Pastor Habrecht at Gloria Dei Lutheran Church. Then, it was over this year's Interfaith Blood Drive when I discovered that Dr Trautman has got his PhD in electrical engineering from Stanford (and still, he prefers to be simply called Woody). And even today, while I was enjoying the hay-ride, sitting next to a senior fellow with his energy-themed name-tag, I found that he was a retired electrical engineer. And then, our chatting drifted into electrical engineering and then I had to explain about my big switch (engineers and non-engineers alike are surprised about my switch, though it's not such a big deal or big switch to me).
No misunderstanding. I've never been one of those guys who identify themselves with their degree (or other worldly affiliations for that matter). Actually, I hate such superficial shallow people. And I didn't like it when my father (purposefully) teased me over recent years, addressing me by my title instead of my name.
It's just that when you get dirty with something for a long time, you can hardly detach yourself from that. And electrical engineers are generally very passionate about their profession. And sometimes, it even shows in our conversations among ourselves (using technical terms even in our non-technical chats; control system guys are the worst in this respect). Or maybe it's a problem with Generation Y (I'm Generation X though). That could be an interesting research topic for sociologists.
After getting off the tractor-pulled-hay-cart, I got a sweet surprise. They were playing from the loudspeaker (loudspeakers in a countryside picnic at a barn?) one of my favorite songs. And the song was a Persian classical one. That happens when you have a Sufi host (Judy Trautman). Just imagine how I felt hearing that song in an American picnic after being cast-away for a long time from my great collection of classical music (Persian and Western) back in Iran. Although I do not like the singer in person, I enjoy his songs, which are mostly classical with mystic themes and poems. This particular song remained a big hit in Iran for quite some time after he released the album early 1980s. To hear the song (Darse Sahar), click on the headphone icon here or simply click on Dars-e Sahar on this page.
And it appears that I was not the only one fascinated. That was true even with Americans who didn't understand the Persian poem (and I really couldn't translate those difficult words with my current command of English). That's sans-frontier language of music, enchanting all people. Well, except for our announcer guy who found it the best time for his announcements right in the middle of this song. Classical music (Persian or Western) flows best into your soul in a continuum, not something you interrupt once in a while and then catch on. Later on, I asked Judy for a replay and again our announcer cut in.
All in all, I enjoyed my day with interesting people in a very pleasant setting. And I had an opportunity (after such a long time) to watch some sheep, horses and a mule grazing, or to listen to the contented sound of hens enjoying their share of watermelon. But I doubt the swallows enjoyed it all the same way while we invaders from town made so much noise in their barn.
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