By GHK Lall- I feel as though I am shortchanging my fellow American, US Ambassador, Nicole D. Theriot. I take my hat off to her, regret there’s only one to offer. With gloves on, I bend knee, curtsy. It was good to see that great American spirit in attendance, firmly in control of herself. Calm in a crowded mishmash. It wasn’t Mash. Guyana’s Diamond Jubilee snared the haloes.
Calm and collected, she was. Cool as a Louisiana bayou, in the push and pull, the nudging and nosing forward to go one foot more. And keep one’s footing at the same time. Impressive. Similarly, impressive was the thoughtfulness of local pickpockets to take the day off and enjoy the holiday. One set of blonde tresses amid waves of sunbaked neighbors, all bronzed to deeper shades of black. A slowly surging sea of sweaty humanity trying to go somewhere, and barely getting anywhere.
When the clip was first seen, I rocked back. It can’t be! How on earth did Excellency Theriot get trapped in that human avalanche? Aw, I see: mixing with the Joneses and the Bahadurs and the Imrans. Aw shucks, but why did this have to be? The Duchess of the diplomatic corps cannot be, should not be, must not be, be exposed in this manner. Hobnobbing with the people of Guyana’s hearth and all. For those licking their lips in the expectation of me socking it to those responsible for l’affaire Theriot, take a number. Not happening today. It’s Freedom Day. A time for peace and goodwill, a season of serenity. Any other would be sacrilegious.
Nevertheless, the question refuses to fade, lingers stubbornly. How did the US Ambassador to Guyana, Excellency Nicole D. Theriot end up in there? In what could have been a dangerous situation, notwithstanding bodyguards seen and unseen. Don’t forget the scandalous also. All it took was a slip. One Guyanese impatient and intoxicated enough to engage in boat rage. Oh well, all’s well that ends well. Still, there’s the lurking image of Ambassador Theriot in that mass of humanity, hemmed in by elbows and forced to peer over shoulders. In the spirit and maturity that comes with 60 years of Independence, the most I will say is that there was some tripping and slipping. The obstinate Guyana Flag should help to fill in required translations.
If the flag didn’t roll, no heads should roll. Things cancel each other, balance out. Time to move past handwringing and looking for easy and convenient whipping boys. This Americanism should work nicely: stuff happens. It’s why fans malfunction, and roofs are in need of some disinfecting from time to time. Come to think of it, Guyana is only 60 years young, so there’s time. No offense to Excellency Theriot and her team, but the US is almost 250 years old, and it is still struggling with old lapses and new gaps. Guyana will learn. There are some incredibly bright folks around here, starting with a cohort of very good doctors who occupy positions of influence, and are on top of their profession.
One positive from what I call the Nicole Theriot Shuffle is that Guyanese, from pinnacles to pavements, just received a tutorial on how to manage oneself when the walls close in and there is no longer any roof overhead. There was a big, fancy boat, though. Some adventurous, optimistic, citizen ventured upstairs, only to be told that that was off-limits, reserved for commodores and admirals.
I did hear that Guyana is an egalitarian society. An appointment is being made with an ENT specialist to check if I have a hearing condition. Before departing, I leave these two notes. Local powers that be have openly admitted to a serious lack of capacity in Guyana. Ambassador Theriot’s experience provided both color and reinforcement to that admission. Finally, to repeat prior advisories: slowdown, sober-up, self-examine, scratch arrogance, start self-correction, savor success. Excellency Theriot made me proud. Best to all Guyanese.
