My Intimate Experiences with Dora the Explorer

This is a piece inspired by the book How to be Inappropriate by Daniel Nester. He has written a number of creative non-fiction pieces in bulleted format, analyzing various events in his life, and I thought it would be a good format for me to try out.

My Intimate Experiences with Dora the Explorer

1. Dora the Explorer premiered on August 14th, 2000. I was 4 years old, and it was the day before my birthday. The show was destined to become a hit.
2. In elementary school, kids liked to show of their miscellaneous phrases of Spanish they knew. ¡Hola! ¿Cómo estás? Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco. I could only count to ten, but I wanted to count further.
   1. I asked my nanny Julia if she could teach me numbers beyond 10. She speaks Portuguese, which she claims is “the same thing.” Though she repeated her numbers multiple times, I could never remember any number past diez.
   2. That day we were celebrating her birthday. In order to avoid the embarrassment of admitting her old age, she told me that she was turning sixteen, dieciseis. I believed this for the next three years until I could rationally proportion ages.
3. At a garage sale, Julia bought me a Dora keychain. It contained a mini-marionette of Dora that hopped when you pressed a button. I played with this toy so much, it broke. Afterwards, I stopped watching Dora. I do not believe these events are related.
4. Once, an ice cream truck came around my neighborhood. I decided to purchase a Dora the Exporer ice pop. Unfortunately, I did not make the mental connection that her brown colored hair would be flavored chocolate. I do not like chocolate. I threw the ice pop in the trash.
5. In 2012, I taught comedy at a sleepaway camp. I did not know much about comedy, but a lack of qualification did not stop me from pursuing my dreams. My co-counselor was Gabby. She knew more than I did.
   1. We asked our campers what they found funny. One of them said, “I like it when stupid people don’t notice obvious things.” Gabby said this reminded her of Dora. Within this group of campers, there was a 15 year old boy from Venezuela. We all looked at him instantaneously. Fate was decided.
   2. This Dora impersonator was not in fact Latino. He was half-Italian and half-Basque. Basque is a wannabe country within Spain. No one ever asked about his ethnic makeup, because he looked generally Latino. His skin was olive and his hair was cut near his ears.
      1. A side note: in Venezuela, Dora teaches English.
   3. Before the sketch can be performed, I had to be gather props. Coincidentally, I owned a purple Kipling backpack. This became Dora’s backpack. Inadvertently, I had owned a Dora backpack for a number of months. I couldn’t believe I had never realized this.
   4. The sketch was a success. The Dora impersonator gained legendary status, and so did Gabby and me.
6. At that camp, I lacked the ability to tell time because we could not use our phones in public. When my mother came to visit, she took me to Walmart so I could buy a watch. I entered the children’s watch section, and I figured I should look around in a different part of the store. However, when I noticed a shiny Dora watch sitting on the shelf, I knew that it was for me.
   1. This watch had plastic attachments marking every day of the week. The first day I wore that watch was a Friday.
   2. After camp was over, I never stopped wearing that watch. I wore it every single day into the school year. At first people humorously commented on this exquisite artifact, but soon it became another mundane aspect of life.
   3. Two weeks after I bought the watch, it already began to break down. The plastic ring that kept the extra length of wrist wrap in place broke down. I replaced it with a broken hair tie. This lasted for months.
      1. Until one day. I had to run the mile during gym class, but I forgot my hair tie at home. I tried to use the hair tie from my watch. Unfortunately, when I tried to wrap my hair in it, the tie broke. It was a sweaty day.
   4. Occasionally, I would forget to switch the proper date, and the false labeling on my watch would make me anxious. In order to calm my nerves, I would reverse the obsolete date onto the blank side so that it could no longer be seen. Instead of having a Wednesday label on a Thursday, I would have a white label that I interpreted as “Not Wednesday.”
   5. Overtime, these plastic labels wore out and lost their attachability. One day near the end of December, my social studies class was switched to a different room. The Wednesday label fell off my watch and I could not find it. At that point I only had six days of the week. I did not want to give the other days of the week an unfair prejudice, so I dumped all of the labels into the trash. I still kept the basic Dora watch.
7. Not everyone was accepting of my watch. My friend Besmah would ask me during social studies why I liked it so much. At that point, the Dora watch was more of a habitual object than an expression of my interest in bilingual children’s television.
   1. Besmah asked what I could do to change my watch. I told her she would have to buy me a new one.
   2. I asked her why she didn’t like my watch. Eventually she admitted that it terrified her. I teased her for a week.
   3. She never bought me a new watch.
8. Throughout the year of the Dora watch, I met a number of friends of the Dora impersonator.
   1. His friend Tony came to New York, and we decided to meet up. Tony is a rich boy in a rich family. He shops at Bergdorf Goodman and wears cologne from Polo Ralph Lauren. He noticed my watch. He said, “you need a new watch.”
   2. I did not tell him that he should buy me a new watch. I did not think we had reached that point of intimacy in our relationship yet.
9. My nanny Julia has a grandson. She keeps her grandson at my house at various times throughout the week. His name is Christian.
   1. When Christian lays next to me, he often grabs at my watch. A few times, I have taken off the watch so he could examine it. He likes put its in his mouth. It doesn’t bother me though. After a while, you get used to toddler saliva.
   2. Christian’s favorite TV show became Dora the Explorer. Julia set the television to Nick Jr. each day so he can watch. When Dora came on the screen, he bounced up and down in his crib with excitement.
      1. This influx of Dora was quite helpful to me because I was trying to learn Spanish. This was for two reasons. First of all, I had always wanted to become bilingual, but my French classes rubbed me the wrong way and I never got a full grasp on the language. Secondly, the friends of the Dora impersonator spoke Spanish, so I figured that was as good an excuse as any to attempt the language.
         1. I can now count past ten in Spanish.
   3. Christian acquired all sorts of various Dora memorabilia. He had a plastic imitation of the backpack, which played music. He banged it on the ground so the music would play over and over.
      1. I still think my Dora backpack is better.
   4. He also came with Dora DVDs. He put these DVDs in his mouth. He puts everything in his mouth.
   5. Julia begged me to play the DVD. I placed it in the Playstation 3 hoping it would work. Somehow, it was still operational.
   6. This summer, Julia asked me to help her out with her garage sale. Even though she was leaving for Portugal that following Thursday, she insisted on having a garage sale because her son Victor bet her 100 dollars that she couldn’t. Christian sat on the steps. He watched his Dora DVD at least 20 times.
10. I never stopped wearing that Dora watch, but overtime it became less and less operational.
    1. I thought that the watch had died in January because no numbers appeared on the screen. The watch ended up returning to normal the next day. At that point though, it was no longer reliable. Sometimes it would work, and sometimes it would not.
11. On the day my Dora watch actually died, I was sitting in the back of the Herricks Summer Music orchestra, now a counselor of viola instead of comedy, although if you ask me, the viola is still a joke.
    1. My stand partner was an orchestra student teacher. He was a cellist but he wanted to improve his viola abilities, so he decided to join the orchestra of middle schoolers.
    2. At a particularly dull point of time, I showed him my blank watch and commented, “I think I need a new watch.” He told me about a friend of his who has a girlfriend named Dora. Dora has short black hair. Dora is Mexican. Dora looks just like Dora the Explorer. So he says.
12. Now, I believe the Dora watch is dead.
    1. Though the watch is gone, the memories I had with that dear watch will last forever.
    2. Besmah will probably be pleased that my watch is gone.
    3. No hablo mucho en español, pero puedo contar las diez.
    4. Tony is now one of my best friends. I’m hoping after reading this, he will buy me a new watch. My birthday is August 15th. You should bookmark that Tony.
       1. I’ll be waiting.

Differentiating Between the Shoulds and the Wants

This summer, I decided to mellow out. Instead of going off to live in the middle of nowhere Connecticut, residing in a small cabin without air conditioning and walking through the dirt in flip flops just to get to the shower, I have spent this month largely at home, leaving in the mornings to work at the Herricks Summer Music Camp. The camp is only from 8-11AM, so it gives me a reason to wake up, but it doesn't eat up my day.

During the school year, I yearned for the summer to come so I could work on all the projects I didn't feel I had time for. I could read all of the large history books in my father's library. I could listen to all the CD's in my mother's library. I could learn Spanish, weave friendship bracelets, cook, clean, and make delicious cocktails (virgin of course). I believed that if I spent my time diligently, I could accomplish these tasks, at least partially.

Even if that didn't work though, I hoped that in the excessive free time, I would become so bored that I would stumble upon some major life revelation, perhaps one that would let me know what I want to do in college. Frida Kahlo decided she wanted to be an artist after being forced to stay sedentary in her hospital bed. If I had enough free time, inevitably I would find what I love to do, so as not to go insane.

When the summer time came, I noticed my reluctance to pursue many of the goals I had previously set out. Though I read an excellent history book on Brazil, I had little desire to read any of the other books in my father's library. I attempted to read a book on Russian history, but put it down after the first 20 pages on the grounds that I couldn't follow all of the miscellaneous tribes running around the place during the Middle Ages. Hungarian history was much the same story, which is a shame because I will be going to Hungary in a week.

With CDs, I had a similar tale. In order to learn my classics, I grabbed whatever CDs I could find and uploaded them into my iTunes. However, when I tried to listen to the likes of Shostakovich, I became nearly delirious. The music affected my mood in such a way that I felt myself becoming more emotional, and slowly going insane. I had to shut it off.

I made a few friendship bracelets, but then I abandoned the activity. I worked on my Spanish, but that too faded into the corners of my mind.

What was I doing instead? It's hard to say. I was actually cleaning. 10 months later, I finally cleaned the dirt and cobwebs from my basement studio. I even refurnished it with color coordinated bins, with some delightful color matching advice from resident color theory expert Danny Magaldi. I learned how to make grilled cheese, quesadillas, and wraps. I've also been reading a decent amount. Yesterday I finished Looking for Alaska and I am a little more than halfway through One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Márquez. Additionally, I have been chatting with friends on facebook, maybe a little too much.

Then, a few days ago, I came upon a revelation. I read an article in the New York Times about how many people feel guilty abandoning books partway through. The article preached that it was ok to abandon a book. So I placed my Hungarian history book to the side and decided to try and read something else to clear up my mind.

While browsing through my mother's various magazines, I stumbled upon Real Simple, a magazine about house keeping, cooking, cleaning, finances, and just general life advice. When I read it, I became infatuated with all of the simple life saving tips that it had to offer.

At first, I questioned this new found interest. "Why am I more interested in a lifestyle magazine than tales of monumental history?" I thought my feelings were shallow. In a world where there is suffering, poverty, political injustice, how could I be obsessed with such insubstantial things as cooking and beauty? It did not seem right for me to spend my time this way, when I should be cultivating my mind for the future, or focusing on more important issues.

Perhaps this has to do with the way that I was raised, but it always seemed to me that many seemingly "feminine" things that many women do are not only a waste of time but (pretentious statement coming) a reinforcement of the patriarchal paradigm, making women less empowered. Not to sound like a feminist, but things like dressing well, putting on makeup properly, cooking, beautifying the house, they take a lot of time. To me it seemed like that time could be spent doing something more practical, and less superficial. Not to mention, I had trouble accepting chivalry. I thought I should be able to do things myself. Having a man take care of tasks like holding doors and carrying heavy weights seemed patronizing to me. 

Then, I thought about my true desires. As a kid, I never learned how to dress, and I looked like a slob. I never learned how to clean, and if you look at my house, you can see the disaster. I never learned table manners, and I didn't know how to be polite at restaurants. All my years on this planet, I just wanted to know how to live a proper, and simple life.

This simple lifestyle magazine was a revelation. Finally, there was something to tell me how to live this basic and pleasant life I dreamed about.

On a walk to the drug store to get various supplies, and more magazines, I asked my dad, "Is it ok that I have the desire to cook and clean and do yoga and work on my appearance and do other womanly things, even when there are better things to be doing with my time?"

"Like what?"

"Learning about politics, reading history, trying to find the answers to world poverty."

"Ellen, what do you think poor women do when they get a lot of money? Well, first they buy a better house and a better car. But afterwards, what do you think they spend their money on?"

"Cosmetics."

"Seems like appearances are something that people find very important."

"So it's ok that I'd rather read about making pastries than Hungarian history?"

"You're a woman Ellen. There is no reason to be ashamed for wanting to do womanly things. Just because I like history, doesn't mean you have to."

So now, 4 weeks into my summer, I have come to a number of revelations. This is the first one.

I am a feminine woman. I like dressing pretty. I like exercising regularly, doing exercises such as Zumba and yoga, because I like feeling strong and healthy. Currently, my favorite magazine is Real Simple. I dream of being a great housewife. I like talking about feelings. I like spirituality.  I want a pretty house and a pretty face and a pretty body. I love Rom Coms. I wish I wore more dresses. I think it's attractive when men act tough. I want a corny romance and I fear being alone. I want pretty smelling perfume. I like it when boys hold doors for me and pay for my things. I like being submissive at times. I want to cook. I want to have house parties. I want to clean. And sometimes my desires to do these things weigh out my feelings on following politics or debating ideas.

I'm sorry feminists. I'm sorry childhood me. IT'S ALL TRUE!!!

My father's point was completely and utterly valid. I was a woman afraid to be feminine. What? Why should I feel this way? Why should I be ashamed of who I am, not only emotionally but biologically?

And that was exactly it. My second revelation. The word should. So deceptive. So cruel. I suppressed my desires because I thought I shouldn't have them. 

Suddenly, my expectations fell apart. I didn't want to read all of those books in my father's library. I didn't want to listen to all of those CDs. I only felt like I should want to. I had the idea that if I read all the books my father did, I would be smart like him, and I wanted to be smart like him.

So many times, I have let the shoulds dominate my life. I tried to pursue a career in music because people told me "you're so talented, you should be a musician!" I've suppressed my feelings in multiple circumstances because people told me "you shouldn't be upset." I read 350 pages on a biography on Brecht before I finally put it down angrily and said, "I can't stand this anymore! Brecht was a terrible human being and I can't stand this anymore!" So many theater moguls have preached Brecht, so I thought I should like him and his ideas. But dammit, he's a terrible, pretentious human being. I cannot stand his communist beliefs, and his communist beliefs are the core of his art, and thus, I cannot stand his art as well.

In all of these pursuits, never did I pause to think, "Is this what I want?"

Maybe this simple idea is obvious to some people, but it wasn't obvious to me.

Before, I thought the reason I wasn't accomplishing what I set out for was because of my laziness. That is false. The reason I haven't accomplished my goals is because I didn't actually want to. I only felt like I should, and that's not enough motivation to get me off the couch on a 90 degree summer day.

The shoulds lead me to frustration again and again. The shoulds waste my time, my energy, and my life. Worst of all, the shoulds do not guarantee success or happiness, which can be seen again and again by people whose expectations are failed everyday.

I will continue to read my magazines and hair care books shamelessly, because that is who I am. I will also read the news, listening to the classical music I like, and continue One Hundred Years of Solitude, because that is who I am too. And that's okay with me, because that's what I want.