American Thanksgiving isn’t celebrated in Guyana (duh). I went into work that Thursday, assuming it would just be a regular day, which it was, but I was welcomed with a surprise. The first grade teacher handed me a bowl wrapped in tin foil when I walked in the front door and proclaimed, “I know it’s a holiday for you, so I made you a Guyanese Thanksgiving!” It was a nice meal of salad, fried rice, and bread pudding, but I think my favorite part of the whole thing was simply that she wished me a happy Thanksgiving.
My American roommates and I planned out our Thanksgiving plans far in advance to make sure that we wouldn’t be caught at home and get depressed because we had nothing to do on such a special day. We decided (and budgeted) to go to dinner at a fast food chicken restaurant in downtown GT. Around dark, all of us “dressed up” and walked to the restaurant where we gorged ourselves on chicken and fries. We sat on the patio outside of the restaurant and talked about what we were thankful for. All in all, despite how silly it all was, we had a nice time. We were all so stuffed after eating that we had to sit around and wait to digest before we could gluttonously purchase ourselves ice cream for dessert. When the meal was finished, we walked back home and watched a Christmas movie and went to bed early because, you know, we had to work on Friday.