A sense of community

I've started visiting local mosques for Iftar. This was something I rarely did in Toledo or even in Tehran. In Tehran, while I lived with my parents, I used to have my Iftar with them every night. And after they migrated to Mashhad, I usually had my Iftar by myself. And I didn't enjoy it much.

Well, until my last Ramadhan in Iran. The unexpected visa complications caused me a lot of problems. Expecting to receive my visa in time and flying to the US in August 2006, I had evacuated my apartment and moved all my stuff to my parents' new place in Mashhad. And it turned out that my visa did not get ready in time and I missed my Fall 2006 semester at the University of Toledo. Due to uncertainties with my visa, I had to enroll at the University of Tehran in their American Studies program.

Without an apartment, I had to live in dorm. Although University of Tehran was (and will be) my most favorite place, those days and nights felt so lonely. Having lived almost all my life in Tehran, it was not fun living in dorm and walking the familiar streets of my hometown like an uprooted alien. To see the full half of the glass, I found good buddies at the room adjacent to mine. But still, I didn't feel quite alright.

And as I had no home to have my Iftar, I began visiting the big mosque at the main campus over Ramadhan. Having my Iftar (although small and frugal) among fellow students in that lovely mosque gave me a sense of community. It would alleviate my depression somehow and would let me deal with the heavy load of weekly readings in my graduate program.

And then, I got my visa and left the University of Tehran for another UT. In Toledo, I had an apartment (although shared), but still, I had nobody to share my Iftar with. Sometimes, some friends took me to mosques in Michigan (Sunni mosques in Toledo area are not very Shia-friendly, based on what I've heard). But my Iftars in Toledo were mostly lonely. And due to circumstances surrounding my Ramadhan in Toledo, as described in my previous post, this was my least enjoyable Ramadhan. But at least, my new hometown was not depressing in itself. Although my Iftars were mostly lonely, I didn't feel that way about my time in Toledo in general. I felt at home. I've written more about it in my Adios Toledo post.

Having landed in Carbondale, I miss Toledo most of the time. And I've had difficulty figuring out exactly why. I used to attribute it mostly to small town culture shock (although Toledo was not so big compared to Tehran). Then, one of my friends told me about Iftars at the mosques in Carbondale. We have a small mosque which provides Iftar to single students almost every night and a bigger mosque which has Iftar for the whole Muslim community occasionally.

Last week, when I had gone to this bigger mosque for the first time, I was feeling kinda comfortable sitting among a community of believers, enjoying my banquet of God. And I took it for granted. After my Iftar was over, I left the mosque for school to continue my work. And I was still feeling at home without thinking consciously about this feeling. Then, when I approached Walgreen's at Wall St, I suddenly felt myself in a total unfamiliar place, in a foreign country. And this, after feeling at home in the US (read in Toledo) for a year and half. It struck me.

I wondered why. I had passed by this Walgreen's repeatedly over past month. So, this exact location was completely familiar to me, physically. So why I felt like that? as if I was in a strange place? in a foreign country? and feeling like that suddenly? I pondered for a while. Then, it downed on me.

Although I'd felt unhappy about living in Carbondale since my first day, this unhappiness was not merely due to its small size or lack of urban setting (which Toledo lacked also). While I was at the mosque, I had a sense of community after a while. And this made me forget that I was in a small town that I didn't like. I was physically somewhere in that town, but I was virtually detached.

When I left the mosque and approached the familiar Walgreen's, it made me realize I was no longer in the familiar atmosphere I was until a few minutes before. Where I had a virtual sense of belonging. Even temporarily. And this temporal sense of belonging vanished suddenly by seeing the familiar place that had nothing to do with that virtual (spiritual) familiar atmosphere. I had been abruptly thrown back to the material.

And then, I realized what had changed since I left Toledo. I had lost my sense of community. And that was the main reason I couldn't feel at home here. And thinking about it more, I found it funny. In Toledo, doing my fieldwork as a sociologist, I spent most of my free time in churches. And I was a practicing Muslim. Still, I had this sense of belonging. Being among a community of believers in a material world, engulfed in material culture. I had a sense of community.

And my Christian friends found it funny when I, a practicing Muslim, talked about Grace Lutheran as my church. But whenever I went there, I could usually connect to Jesus easily. And while sitting in their Bible studies, although I always kept my Muslim views when I had the opportunity to voice my opinion on the verses being studied, I always found myself among my family (most of people in those Bible studies were about the age of my parents or somehow older). And although some of the churches I mistakenly visited, were not a good place to connect with Jesus, I used to enjoy my time in most other churches. And I took all this for granted.

My second Ramadhan in the US

Another Ramadhan and another new hometown. One year has passed since my first Ramadhan in the US. Apart from the new hometown and a new school, some other things have changed. And some things have not changed (at least not changed in a positive way).

It's another year to enjoy God's banquet alone (for odd reasons, this reminds me of Bowling Alone). And being in a PhD program with crushing loads of reading while you're hungry for the whole day is not fun (such an unreasonable load of reading is not fun even with a full stomach, as my American friends tell me). And changes in your sleep pattern in a society that is used to have fun late night would make it even harder.

In Ramadhan, you eat your breakfast before dawn (sahar, in Islamic terms, about 5 am these days). And here, people are not used to sleep earlier than midnight (at best). That means they wouldn't let you sleep either while they're partying, listening to loud music or watching late-night shows or series on TV, etc. So, you sleep about midnight (or after) and then, you have to wake up about 4:30 am for your early breakfast (known as sahari in Islmaic jargon) and then try to sleep for a little while just to wake up soon for your morning routines. Trying to adapt to such an unhealthy sleep pattern is disorienting (and annoying) and some Muslims here prefer to skip the sahari meal. That's highly discouraged in Islam.

Ramadhan is the banquet of God. You don't feast just when you break your fast at the end of the day; feasting begins at the beginning of the day, right when you wake up to have your sahari. And it's not just about eating at that time. You have some prayers before and after your sahari meal. And man, those prayers are so nice and eloquent. One of the things I miss about Iran is listening to Sahar prayer from radio while enjoying my elaborate breakfast beside my parents. Sahar has always been the most enjoyable time of my life.

All nostalgia about sahar and sahar prayers aside, I cannot skip sahari meal for practical reasons. Even under normal conditions, my blood sugar is low and reading so many books and papers with even a lower blood sugar is not easy. So, I have to get along with sleep disruptions to have my sahari. That's easier said than done.

Over my time in Toledo, my apartment was in a crappy place (and as I was stuck with a co-lease, I couldn't get rid of there before the end of my lease). My apartment overlooked the parking lot. And although there were "No Loitering" signs over the place, there were always people having fun one way or another in the parking lot; chatting, showing off their car stereos, or even partying.

If there was a night that I could sleep before midnight without being woken up at 1 or 2 am by people shouting, singing, brawling or fighting, that was my lucky night. And the only thing that the landlord was concerned about was collecting rents on time. She didn't care about all the noise or people using their apartments to run all sort of business. To her, these things were people's lifestyle. At one point, she suggested me (it came more as an order) to study in the library (at school), to which I answered "I cannot sleep in the library". In a sense, my first Ramadhan in the US was probably the worst one I've ever had. But some things have changed for better.

When I came here in June to look for apartments, I made it a priority to find a place in a quiet, party-free area, and without a room-mate. And I can say my place although not ideal, is far better than my previous one. I'm beginning to recover from my sleep disorders. My apartment overlooks a garden (instead of a parking lot). Every night, I go to sleep with the nocturne of frogs, crickets and other insects (whose name I don't know) and I wake up by the conference of the birds in the morning. And my neighbors here are more mature and responsible compared to my previous place. But still, it's not convenient to sleep around 12 am (or later) and wake up at 4:30 and try to go back to sleep briefly.

And I badly miss listening to Sahar prayer over my sahari meal. You can still download it as an audio file and listen to it. But still, hearing it in real feels different; when you begin your day-long banquet at that early hour by treating your body with some yummies and in the meantime, ask God to give your soul some replenishment out of His infinite resources.

And you know that multitudes of other guests in other homes are doing the same thing as you at the same time and listening to the same prayer. A synchronism in apparent asynchronism. Ah, the incorrigible engineer inside me never gives up seeing everything through the lens of system theory.

This is a (not so successful) attempt to translate the opening verses:

My Lord, I ask you of your glory by its most glorious and all your glory is glorious; My Lord, I ask you by your glory in its entirety.

My Lord, I ask you of your beauty by its most beautiful and all your beauty is beautiful; My Lord, I ask you by your beauty in its entirety.

My Lord, I ask you of your splendor by its most splendid and all your splendor is splendid; My Lord, I ask you by your splendor in its entirety.

My Lord, I ask you of your greatness by its greatest and all your greatness is great; My Lord, I ask you by your greatness in its entirety.

My Lord, I ask you of your light by its most luminescent and all your light is luminescent; My Lord, I ask you by your light in its entirety.

My Lord, I ask you of your grace by its most encompassing and all your grace is encompassing; My Lord, I ask you by your grace in its entirety.

My Lord, I ask you of your words by their most complete and all your words are complete; My Lord, I ask you by your words in their entirety.

My Lord, I ask you of your perfection by its most perfect and all your perfection is perfect; My Lord, I ask you by your perfection in its entirety.

My Lord, I ask you of your names by their greatest and all your names are great; My Lord, I ask you by your names in their entirety.

How did you spent your summer?

I was looking at my Google Analytics reports to see how people have landed on my blog and on which pages. I've written more about this service and non-business uses for it in this post on Traditional vs Contemporary Worship. I've found an interesting trend over this summer and last year.

It appears that "how did you spend your summer?" is a universal topic for kids who get back to school. I've written about this on a separate post last year. And it was funny to find kids landing on this post by googling the words. And I can't help but laugh at their disappointment when they click on the link to my last summer memories, as it's totally useless for their school homework.

Come on kids. Should you search the Internet for every single school assignment? Can't you have some creativity and rely on yourself instead of the Internet even for a simple topic like this? And I can't help but think where our world is going with a generation who wants everything easy and effortless. It shows up in how they type their search keywords: How did you spent your summer?

Well, Google ignores the typo and sorts the search results as if the keywords had been entered correctly. Intelligent software and gadgets make life easier. People who design such intelligent aides argue that by correcting these things automatically, we free your mind from smaller lesser stuff and let you utilize your brain for bigger more important things. Maybe, maybe not.

With this ever easy-making trend for everything, people may empty their mind and just let it relax from serious stuff, while having a high level of confidence in themselves. Read this article on stupidity (and follow the second part) for more on this.

To me, it appears that the generation before me, who didn't have so much technical amenities and had to fret the small stuff, were more creative than my generation and far more advanced in nurturing original ideas compared to the generation after me. A trend began with my generation and has continued alarmingly with the next generation. It manifests itself in one of my favorite songs that begins with: "We don't need no education, we don't need no thought control". Did I say that I love that song?

Welcome to Southern Illinois

First time I visited Carbondale last December, I got to know what it means to be in Southern Illinois. When I left Toledo, it was cold and snowing. Over my stop in Chicago, it was terribly cold, windy and snowing. When I arrived in Carbondale, it was spring and it was raining day and night.

But today, I got to get a better understanding of weather here. It started raining last night and continued pouring down all over the morning. Well, that must sound normal to people here. But to me, not accustomed to such a pouring rain, it was not a good start for my first day of classes as a Teaching Assistant in Sociology.

First time I was a TA, it was for Signals & Systems (one of the fundamental courses in Electrical Engineering) and I taught SIGSYS, a software I had discovered for problem-solving in Signals & Systems.

My teaching experience was not limited to that. I had taught German in high school (and after that in college) and also essentials of computing and BASIC programming language. But those were mostly one-to-one tutoring. While teaching SIGSYS for the first time was an interesting experience, it sounded kinda challenging (and exciting) to teach in a classroom for the first time. And I was at the same age as my students (most of whom where my friends). Just imagine dealing with kids who've jumped from high-school to college, while you, the teacher, are just one of them. And I had not taken the course myself yet. I counted mostly on their friendship and cooperation so that I could lead the class.

I've continued teaching after my Teaching Assistantship for Signals & Systems as an undergrad student (and the last time I taught SIGSYS, I'd already passed the course and was a senior student). I've taught some other software, Mac OS, basics of computer networks and Internet and Decentralized Control Systems (DCS). It should be obvious that as the son of two teachers, I love teaching.

But while most of my teaching experience is with technical stuff, today, I had my chance to experience leading a non-technical class, Introduction to Sociology discussion section. And again, kids who've jumped from high-school to college. Although I've grown 16 years older compared to when I had to deal with such kids for the first time, it's still challenging to handle a classroom comprised mostly of such an age cohort. And there are two more challenges: leading a classroom in a country other than yours and as a result, dealing with various accents in a foreign language and also interacting with kids from a different culture.

And although I easily make friends with people, students in these discussion sessions were not already friends with me for 4 semesters before this class (as was the case with my first time teaching SIGSYS). So, I could not primarily count on their friendship and cooperation. I had to trust in God and try to make friends.

I found the best way of ice-breaking to ask the students to write their name, the way they prefer to be called, their hometown, their major, why they have chosen that major, what do they think of Sociology in general and about this course in specific and how they relate Sociology to their major. Then, I would introduce myself, explain about my background and then ask the students to do the same. People are usually comfortable talking about themselves.

Such a pouring rain made it impractical to ride my bike. I had to walk to the bus stop, take the campus shuttle and then walk for a while to reach my first class before 8 am in a less-than-ideal room, equipped with a blackboard and a sink. And the people needed more than an ice-breaking at that early class (in Carbondale, students don't find Friday 8 am the best time to sit a class). But I was not in a good mood myself.

While I had rain-suit and people looked at my bright yellow rain-gear with envy, it was not as fun as it looked. It somehow worked in Northwest Ohio, but not in Southern Illinois. A rain-suit may protect you from pouring rain, but when it rains heavily, it drains all the rain into your shoes. And furthermore, it works both ways; the same way that it shields you from rain, it keeps the humidity and vapors inside. So, when humidity is high, your clothes feel terribly damp. And that's how I felt when I reached my first class; damp with wet feet.

My second class was in a better room (without a sink). Although not much better equipped than the first one, this was not as gloomy and depressing. And people were already sitting in a circle. And they didn't need much ice-breaking. As it went on, it reminded me of my first TA experience 16 years ago.

Back then, I had two sections on two different days. One of them was overpopulated and not very enthusiastic. But people at the second section were so friendly and active. On the day that I taught them, I had to rush to another university (near downtown Tehran) to sit a class as a guest and then rush back to our university to teach my class. And just like now, I didn't have a car. And yet, I didn't feel overwhelmed. My students/friends in this second section gave me so much motivation with their attitude that I felt upbeat despite such a hectic schedule.

When I entered the room for my second section here, I felt myself in a similar environment as that second section 16 years ago, although it was my first time meeting these guys. And interestingly, there was only one student majoring in Sociology and the rest were not in relevant majors (most of them Radiology). By the end of the class, I'd almost forgotten about my wet feet and damp clothes.

My third class was in one of the best equipped rooms I've seen on this campus (with all sort of multimedia and other high-tech gadgets). I anticipated that such a high-end environment would entice students even more. But maybe not. It was the less enthusiastic of all. At times, I felt like talking to the wall. While there were some students who showed some energy over the introduction part, I wouldn't receive any answer whatsoever whenever I asked a question from the class in general and I had to just play my tape no matter what. An open loop control system. I kinda felt all my energy drained. And that, despite being in such a high-tech room. I wonder what was wrong here. Maybe it was such a big room and people were scattered around. Maybe it was near lunch time. I have to find a solution.

I left for my office at the longhouse (aka Faner Hall), feeling wet and grumpy again. And it was still raining. Here, if you don't have a car, an umbrella is necessary (although it may not be sufficient when wind splashes the rain in your face). Welcome to Southern Illinois.

Fall 2008 at SIU

It appears that unlike Toledo, you don't have a lot of options when choosing courses here. There are only four graduate courses offered in our department and out of them, I've chosen 2, plus a seminar from Political Science department:

Teaching Sociology
Seminar in Race and Ethnic Relations
Seminar in Political Behavior

I'm more or less happy with the courses I've taken. But when you're in America, freedom of choice matters. Choosing out of only 4 graduate courses, doesn't sound much like a choice. And out of those 4 course, one was Classical Sociological Theory that I had passed last fall in Toledo. Here, the graduate committee (unlike other PhD programs that I know) wouldn't be impressed even if you have passed a course with A. They don't let you run loose and you have to take a proficiency test to waive it or you have to repeat the course no matter what. But maybe that's not the only thing I'm unhappy about.

It appears I'm spoiled at the University of Toledo in different ways. There, our department was located in the University Hall, a Collegiate Gothic building. I felt more or less living in a castle. And other buildings on campus had some elements of Gothic architecture and it felt pleasant to me biking around campus.

Here, our department is located in the ugliest building on campus. It's a very long, featureless, spiritless, depressing building. I've never seen such a long building. To give you an idea, if you walk in the building from one end to another, it'll take you about 5 minutes (3 minutes, if you walk fast). And by the way, if you choose to do this intramural marathon (to stay away from the muggy weather outside), you have to be on the third floor; other floors don't provide you with such a freedom.

First time, I saw the building, I gave it the name longhouse. But still, a longhouse has some communal spirit. This longhouse lacks even that. It doesn't look like academic in its architecture. You find yourself in an administrative or governmental building. And my feeling of unhappiness is intensified when I look at the nice buildings surrounding ours. Although there isn't any consistency in their architecture. You can find all sort of architecture around this campus.

If there's anything I like about the campus, it is its woods and its big lake (we have a big campus even by American standards). You can walk around the lake and relax or enjoy canoing or kayaking for free. And there are some dorms overlooking the lake. Those undergrads living there must be very appreciative about their luck.

And there's something unique about this campus and town. Sometimes you feel you're in a dog land. On some streets in and around campus (sometimes even not so near campus), you see huge dog footprints on the pavement, instead of the normal arrows showing directions. This is one of the major issues I have with American schools. Here, it's not clear which comes first, egg or chicken.

Seriously, is the school for football or vice versa? Many schools are defined and identified by their football team. I think schools, by definition, are primarily institutions of higher education and if they have sport facilities and sporting events, they are mostly extra perks to make life less boring, not the other way around. Sometimes these institutions of higher education go to extremes in defining their identity by their football team and its mascot.

This area found itself a reputation as the Little Egypt for geographical and historical reasons. Read here for more. This led people come up with the idea of choosing Saluki as the mascot for the school's football team. And then, everything was redefined by a football team's mascot. Football fans may feel OK with that. They choose to support their football team and they accept their team's mascot. But what about others who are here primarily for higher education?

In Toledo, we had the same issue. But there, the mascot was more prestigious (or acceptable) for a college. It was a Rocket. And everything was defined around Toledo Rockets. Student ID was Rocket Card. Your employee number was Rocket Number. Even the corner in the Student Union where you got vending machines was called Rocket Fuel (and rightly so). Probably, the only people that would be offended by such a mascot would be peaceniks.

But here, everything is about being a dog. Not just for football fans. For everybody. The computer network (where you check your academic and personal records) is SalukiNet. The campus shuttle (which is as unreliable as Toledo) is Saluki Express. Your calendar is called Dawg Book. Your debit card (and account) is called Debit Dawg. Anything related to IT is called Dawg Bytes (and I wish it were as fast as a dog). Your employee number (and ID) is called Dawg Tag. And above all, the campus core is defined around Saluki Way.

And it doesn't stop just at symbols and mascots. Over one of our orientation sessions, the Dean of Graduate School referred to Saluki as a symbol of endurance, perseverance and stamina. And he recommended us, graduate students to be like a Saluki.

Please. Dogs are cute animals and I love all animals. But I'm a human being, a student. I don't want to be a dog. I want my ID to be just that, a student ID, not a dog tag (or as it's spelled here, Dawg Tag). And as a graduate student, my role model for endurance and perseverance would be a human being, a great scholar, not an animal, however cute and lovely it may look.

Speaking of SalukiNet, it makes me miss our network at UToledo badly. The speed of our network was remarkable (I'd read a report somewhere that Ohio ranks first nationally, when it comes to IT infrastructure of universities). Being used to that speed, I find myself grinding my teeth here.

Sometimes, I find myself thrown back in a time machine to my early years of Internet 15 years ago. Specifically for me as a dedicated customer of libraries anywhere, using resources on the library website is a nerve-racking experience most of the time (even after midnight which is not peak time).

And the network of libraries in Illinois, called I-Share, is not even comparable to what we had in Ohio, OhioLink. Just trying to reserve books on I-Share is a torture (with our turtle-speed network), limitations on the books you can get is another pain in somewhere.

But these things may be minor headaches. This school sounds too liberal for me. In Toledo, I found myself in a more or less liberal atmosphere, but still, I was not inundated with pro-gay and gay-support material. And the city was moderate to liberal. So, the liberal atmosphere on campus was understandable. But here, the area is mostly conservative. And the concentration of churches near campus is really high. Such a level of liberalism in such an area sounds unusual to me (I know of some other liberal campuses amid a sea of conservatism). If I can find time to visit churches around the campus and beyond, I might have interesting observations.

If there's one thing in SIU I definitely prefer over UToledo, it's the ethnic diversity. That's one of the major reasons, I've chosen the US for my graduate studies. In Toledo, we didn't have much variety when it came to international students. Here, I got the chance to meet many students from all over Latin America, Europe and Asia.