A Poison Tree

I have a new enemy.  Her name is Sallie Mae.  Or maybe it’s not Sallie Mae. Maybe it’s the IE administration.  In the past few months, Sallie Mae and IE have come together in my life and given birth to my loan.  And for the money, I am grateful. Seriously and truly.  But, the road to get it resembled the traffic jam scene in WEEKEND (Godard) and the road to pay it off will surely be arduous.

How deceiving can a name be? Sallie Mae is possibly one of the friendlier names.  For me, just thinking of the name triggers images of southern belles and sipping delicious iced tea on a hot summer day sitting on the porch of their mansion, looking out onto their Terra-esque estate...as they grip the leather handle on their whips while monitoring the slaves toiling away on their property. So, I guess a name is not deceiving so much as our associations are ever-changing if, in this case, Sallie Mae is starting to make me think of the confederate south, white supremacists, and the kkk as they force me to pay back my loan while I'm in school at a whopping rate of 10% which, in my eyes, resembles extortion.

It’s not hard to believe that an organization to whom I would be in debt would be an enemy. It’s also not fair to abhor an organization who lends me money as they are, on the surface, helping me.  Loans are a common evil so it’s not the loan that makes me angry and it’s not the loan itself that is my enemy. So, I guess I should clarify and say that Sallie Mae is an enemy in my life only when seen in relation to IE.  

Which brings us to IE.  Along the same lines, it’s not hard to believe that a student would be frustrated with their school’s administration. I mean, has anyone attended a school where all their administrative deals have gone smoothly? In this case, I am mad at the school for the type of loan they have assigned to American students and on how difficult they make it to get a clear and descriptive answer from anyone in the administrative offices. 

I just spent the past week in Launch classes which have forced us to evaluate ourselves and the world around us, and have given us a small peek into worlds to which we may never have been introduced in the past. One major point that was stressed in our commencement and then hammered home during launch is the idea that we cannot change the world but we can change ourselves and, in doing so, can effect the world (in the long run). So, what they basically said was get over seeing yourself as the person who knows everything and is doing everything the optimal way. Change yourself, adapt, make yourself malleable in a way in which you are yourself and confident in your knowledge but open to expanding your cultural IQ and receiving thoughts and ideas from the world around us, thinking outside the box and implementing your multi-fasceted skills in global business. Even seeing how the classes themselves related to business was, at times, tricky but clearly the point wasn't how does A relate to B.  You would think that the school would at least try to be a reflection of the message they are disseminating or maybe even try to serve as an example of how a good business is run (it is an mba program, after all, and within the top 10 in the world).  I think you see where I'm going with this (n.b. - just imagine the aforementioned traffic jam scene). The professors have been amazing thus far, the executive administrative staff has been nothing but supportive and unbelievably catering to the students.  A few of the other people with whom I've dealt (outside of the student office, b/c they are superb) have left more than just some things to be desired.

So, I’m not going to sit here and complain anymore about this. Instead, I’m going to share a poem I read in high school that slightly resembles how I feel (only the end bit is a bit extreme…just remember this is William Blake and this is poetry so let go a bit as you read):

A Poison Tree

by William Blake

I was angry with my friend;

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I waterd it in fears,

Night & morning with my tears:

And I sunned it with smiles,

And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright.

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole.

When the night had veiled the pole;

In the morning glad I see,

My foe outstretchd beneath the tree

On another note, I went to the German supermarket yesterday and found walnuts from Trader Joe's!  This seriously turned my day around yesterday.  For those of you who don't know, Trader Joe's is actually owned by a German company (sorry to burst your bubbles; I liked the idea of their being a trader named Joe somewhere in California too).  Also, classes officially start this week.  Eek!

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Police Station

I encountered the most interesting array of musicians in and on the metro today. 

It’s 7 AM and I’m on my way to the police station to get my ID card.  Although I tried to make an appointment ahead of time to get the card, I was told you need an ID card issued by the state in order to get an ID card, even if you’ve never had an ID card before.  How this makes sense is a mystery.  I don’t think anyone actually sees the logic in this. Instead, I think it’s the Spaniards’ way of forcing an inordinate amount of people to go to the police station and help keep the people at the station employed by giving them a constant flow of too much work to do.  Anyway, back to the metro…

The metro ride started off as all my metro rides start, with my metro card being rejected.  Turns out that everything with a magnetic strip in this country is demagnetized when exposed to a magnet.  So, my Spanish ATM card, my health insurance card and my metro card can no longer be placed in my wallet because they immediately become defunct thanks to the magnets on the flap. So, after reciting my normal seemingly scripted lines to the attendant, I finally am granted a new metro card.  Without further delay, I am back en route through the maze that is the metro station by my flat.  As I go down the first set of escalators, the first few notes of a song I think I recognize start to trickle into my ears.  Very melodic and with quite the orchestral back up, I initially think this performer is about to break out into the Avatar song by Leona Lewis. But then, it takes a sudden turn and I realize that, no no, wrong James Cameron movie.  It’s actually the Celine Dion song from Titanic sung by a raspy and more pastel voice that sounds almost like it belongs in a hotel lounge at 3 AM.  As the escalator approaches the ground, I look up from my book (yes, I walk and read…what?) only to see that it’s a 5’5, north African dude with dreads, in jeans and a tee shirt whose heart is about to go on as he loses all his fear because we’re here.  Hmm, fascinating.  And he has 2 speakers, a cd player and is belting his smoker’s whispers into a microphone.  But, I keep walking because there are still 2 more escalator rides to go and a few more hallways to plow through.

The next downward journey is a bit different.  This time, it’s The Streets of Philadelphia by Bruce Springstein. Ugh, what a tear jerker.  And this guys sounds just like Boss.  Every time I hear the song, I think of Tom Hanks and that amazing loft in which he lived with Antonio Banderas and I want to cry.  Not because of the loft. Obviously. It’s possible they didn’t even live in a loft but I do remember a scene in the film that involves a party at a loft/apartment.  Anyway, reading, at this point, is not happening.  I put away my book and look forward to reaching the bottom so I can see this brilliant vocalist who should be doing Springstein covers all the time.  First I see two greyed sneakers, followed by light blue jeans bunched at the ankles.  His legs are bent. Clearly this dude is sitting…and he’s sitting in what now appears to be a beach chair.  And, we’re getting close to his face and…oh.  What? Hold on.  Yes.  This is happening.  It’s just a white dude sitting in a chair playing a Bruce Springstein cd with a guitar case in front of him and no visible guitar around.  He is making absolutely no effort to pretend to be performing. Apart from highlighting his talent in plugging in his cd player to speakers and being capable of picking a good cd, this guy has brilliantly marketed himself as the most amazing sitter in the subway station with an exceptional ability to resist performing at all costs and still making a few coins here and there.  Why are people giving him money?  I really, truly, have no idea.   I mean, he’s funnier than a lot of stand up comedians I’ve seen and he’s doing nothing so even I would give him money if only for a good inside laugh he provided as I marched deeper into the dungeons of the metro station.

The rest of my journey to the train itself was uninterrupted.  It was a short wait until my train arrived and, at this hour, there are plenty of seats.  I pull out my book, get through another page when suddenly more music pours out of a speaker just like Mr. Dion’s.  Seriously? It’s 7:13.  Is this the magic music hour I had never heard of? This speaker, unlike the last few, is strapped to a luggage pulley thing and is being pulled by a real gem of a woman who is a cross between Olive (Popeye’s girl) and Kristen Schaal (Flight of the Conchords). She is wearing flowery tapered khakis, red sailor shoes and a flower embroidered top with poufy sleeves.  Unlike our first two “musicians,” she is truly belting into her microphone.  And, she is belting Edith Piaf, with no regrets whatsoever.  And, she doesn’t appear to be asking for any money. Because she didn’t stop once and she didn’t have a change cup anywhere.  So, either she actually fancied herself as the reincarnation of Edith Piaf or she was on the search for a record deal in the country with the 2^nd largest pirating problem in the world at 7:15 in the morning.

And you might be asking how this happened all in one day.  That’s a very very good question to which I don’t have an answer.  I just hope I haven’t exhausted the number of interesting encounters allotted to me in my genesis.

Also, I got rejected from the police station so now I have to go back tomorrow. Super.