Dear Editor
I spent the last few days feeling tense, waiting with bated breath for the election results; it was the last thing on my mind when I went to bed at night, and the first thought when I awoke. Why?
Because no matter where I live, I am Guyanese. I love my Indian music, my beef curry and dhal puri, my pepperpot, my cook-up rice, my souse, my cowheel soup, my soca music. I am comfortable in Buxton, in Crabwood Creek, in Lethem, in Bartica.
I commend my parents for their work in raising me to be Guyanese first, for teaching me that my nationality triumphs over my race. I yearned for the leaders of my country to reflect those traits, and soon, my waiting will be over.
Yours faithfully,
Yuri Westmaas
