So I had to continue we ¨If ya know ya know¨ gyaff because I undoubtedly enjoyed reading the experiences of others like Terrence´s cousin, who went to the shop to buy brief when the shop man only had ´buktah´ and Lucrecia who tried to explain it´s ¨tomatoes¨and not ¨tomadoes¨ at Subway´s counter. As Guyanese, we aint deh down hay!
While I was in the US, shopping for a pair of jeans, I asked the sales guy to assist me with a particular style but when he returned he told me that they didnt have my preferred style available and suggested another. When I said, ¨No, that one too damaged¨, he quickly started checking the jeans to see where it was ´damaged´ and I realized immediately that I needed to say ripped jeans instead of damaged jeans. Both laughing, he asked me where I was from.
Guyana, of course!
In all our different stories one element stays the same. That is, the things which distinguish us from others are the same things that remind us of how similar we are; things as simple as chicken curry vs. curry chicken, referring to every toothpaste as colgate, every nail polish as Qtex and not having to explain words like ´dog ears´ or ‘balambi sour’. More than that, a gentleman travelling on the bus in New York spinning around because he recognized his people by their speech or the Guyanese woman selling avocados in Barbados calling out for the GT crew passing by.
In the end, what matters most is if ya know, ya know. I´m so proud to be Guyanese!
Please continue to share your stories.