Rita in Wonderland

I grew up in Nigeria in a state called Port Harcourt, and yes, I lived close to a Port. I remember hearing the sound of the ships arriving and leaving each morning - It was magical. I also remember my beautiful school, my friends that came from different countries, and the unforgettable times we all had together. Despite those heartwarming memories, I simply will not go back to visit home for one reason: I don’t want to ruin the beautiful image I have in my head of my childhood in Nigeria.
When we are young, a hill looks like a mountain, an ant like a cockroach, a horse like a unicorn; everything has an intensified effect on us. Growing up pulls the magic right out of our lives, so why destroy the very little magical memories that we still have?
Adding to that magic were the cartoons and musicals I watched as a child:
The Wizard of Oz, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, The Sound of Music, Mary Poppins, Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, The Jungle Book, The 101 Dalmatians, and Alice in Wonderland, to name a few.
As much as I loved watching them, I never attempted seeing any of them again because I would rather remember them vaguely, as enchanting, than to remember them vividly, as lame.

Recently though, I did make an exception - Alice in Wonderland (2010). What was up with that?
This blog will probably stir up a lot of angry responses, but I am sorry - I just did not like the movie!
Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter gave brilliant performances, the costumes were magnificent, and the special effects were out of this world; so what was up with that peculiar/lame as frick story line? (Maybe it should’ve been called “Alice in Narnia” or “Alice of the Rings”.) If the Hollywood folk feel like making a movie of this sort, they should stick to concepts like Shrek or Finding Nemo, which are quite cute, funny, and original – as opposed to re-creating or sequel-ing a classic and failing miserably at it.

I should probably convey to you what kind of experience I had, watching this movie.
Tuesday, March 9: Teacher’s Day. Bambi and I, being two individuals with brains, decided it would be a great idea to watch Alice in Wonderland 3D at the 2:30 pm screening. The only problem we considered was traffic. With that in mind, I dressed very quickly, left out the mascara (since that would have taken an extra 10 minutes), and decided to just quickly apply some blush (succeeding in accidentally over blushing myself to ripe tomato mode). I drove over there as fast as I could, consequently getting insulted by bus, taxi, and trailer trash drivers at least 74 times before I reached.

I was so relieved to get there – the hustle was over and I was going to enjoy a lovely movie with Bambi.
As I walked through the mall and up the escalators to get to the movie theatre, something just didn’t feel right – it was like the silence before the storm, and my sixth sense picked up on an incoming disaster. Upon reaching the last escalator - there it was - at least 600 children screaming, running, throwing popcorn, defying gravity, breaking sound barriers! Where was I? Did I get zapped into Animal Planet, or was this a National Geographic special? I was terrified amongst the stampede of wild beasts – and where was Bambi? Was it safe to reach for my phone and call her? I stood there unable to act or move, but with one thought in my head, “Oh no Rita, it’s teacher’s day you full-fledged IDIOT.” As if it weren’t bad enough to be over blushed, I was also red with rage (try to imagine how pretty I looked). You see, I am not a “kid person” – I am more into dogs. One day, I’ll have kids of my own and I’ll love them – I’ll love my nephews, my nieces, my best friends’ kids, and all the related bla bla. In the meantime though, kids are like germs to me: I know they are everywhere, and I know they will eventually get to me, but I still try to avoid contact with them in every possible way.

As Bambi arrived, she had already realized it was teacher’s day too, but she didn’t seem to be the least bit annoyed by it, and this infuriated me – I thought, I’ll throw her to the beasts, why not!
It took us 20 minutes to buy the movie tickets, during which I was demonstrating my utter anxiety by making offensive remarks accompanied by “ouft-ing” and “pffft-ing”. The guy selling us the tickets managed to pick up on my frustration and said “I am sorry Miss, genuinely sorry because of the crowd and the chaos, but as you know it is teacher’s day today. How may I help you?” Okay – so at this point I had to quit yapping because acts of politeness throw me off-guard (when someone in Lebanon is actually polite to you, you need to write, talk, dance, sing, and rejoice about it). We bought our tickets, said thank you (I got scolded at by Bambi because Ticket Boy was so nice to us – yes, even Bambi was still shaken by his politeness), and stood in line to enter Wonderland.

As I have come to learn, life is all about Yin and Yang -Ticket Boy’s politeness has to be balanced out with some form of utter rudeness. This is where the charming mothers come in:
Lebanese Mothers (most of which are USELESS) believe that they are God’s greatest gift to mankind, simply because they gave life to their magnificent children. I will call this genre of Lebanese Mothers, the La Classe Mothers of Uselessness (LCMU).
To be a member of the LCMU society, you have to have a rich husband who will pay for all your nonsense (especially the things you couldn’t buy for yourself prior to your marriage), you cannot have a job (yiiii, tfou! Working is for peasants), you should have a Filipino nanny (who will raise, feed, and love your kids while you’re too busy spending your husband’s money on the nothingness that makes you who you are), you have to have a nice body with a bit of a belly (which marks you as a mother, and thus giving you the right to be a b**** with a superiority complex), you also have to display the following: a Cartier/Chopard/Rolex watch that you will NEVER take off (you shouldn’t worry about your kids trying to snatch it off because you never play with them anyway ,or worry about injuring your husband’s head with it during sex, because let’s face it – sex only happens after he buys you a new car), a diamond wedding band that determines your social (not marital) status and you will never remove it either (you never do the dishes anyway, so what’s the point?), and a designer bag for your make up and mobile phone(s) (the Filipino will be carrying the bag that contains the antiseptic, wet wipes, feeding bottles, diapers, and everything else your kid might need).

Back to the original subject of when we were standing in line, waiting our turn to grab our 3D glasses and enter to Wonderland - the attack of the LCMU’s was unreal! They were SO rude, so hateful, pushing and shoving (do you not understand the concept of a line, b****?) so that their sacred little monkeys can enter before us to sprinkle popcorn and joy all over the floor and seats (to welcome us ofcourse). After all, they are more important than us simpletons, who aren’t worthy of breathing the same oxygen as their uncivilized noses. After the LCMU’s and their lovely children took Xanax pills and calmed down, we found our seats and started wiping all the spit and snot off the dirty, used 3D glasses that were given to us (antiseptic, PLEASE). At this point my mood was just ruined, but I thought to myself, “Rita, it’s all worth it; you’re going to watch Alice in Wonderland and re-live that childhood magic that you lost over the years”.

Thirty minutes into the movie I realized how wrong I was, and I was so ready to leave. Where was the magic? This wasn’t wonderland anymore; this was a full-on horror movie, a twisted version of Freddy’s Nightmares – I was biting my nails for frick’s sake (and surely a 7 year old would be having nightmares for a week after watching it – ugh, poor Filipinos)! During the entire duration of the movie, all I could think of was that poor little frog that was beheaded for eating the queen’s pie! Also, the sarcasm in the movie cannot be understood by children (but when kids do understand sarcasm, let’s not wonder where they’re getting their rudeness from), and their LCMU’s are probably too self-absorbed and brain dead to understand any of it either. It was just a total mess. Whenever something interesting finally happened in that slower than frick movie, I would hear a kid saying, “mama, mama, I need to pee”. Well of course you need to pee every 15 minutes, you moron – your “mama” just bought you a soda drink the size of your head and a box of popcorn the size of Texas! I was never allowed to eat junk food in those amounts.

I love technology, I love moving forward, I love change – but let’s face it, in our ever-transforming world, it is nice to hold on to certain things that remain constant, authentic. Sometimes it’s just nice to go back to the basics, when things were simple and sweet. I know when I have kids one day, I am going to buy Alice in Wonderland (1951) on video, dust off my old VCR, and watch it with them. Now that’s magic! 


“There is a certain majesty in simplicity which is far above all the quaintness of wit.” Alexander Pope