Some believe I am Indian (maybe because of my name). Someone once told me there are a lot of girls named Fahmeena in Bangladesh. I am not Indian. My parents are also not Indian.

Guyana has lots of Indian citizens (they make up one of the six races in the country — this presentation I prepared for a church event/exercise has some additional information: https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Su3gvi8ovD4SnMb4Pm-D445fAUulm-MLi9e55mafoOk/edit#slide=id.p4;
the photos included in the following blog show the presentation at the event:
http://fmooresignatureassignment3.blogspot.com/2016/08/working-despite-issues.html). In Guyana, I had Indian schoolmates. I had Indian teachers. I had Indian friends. So I get along with Indians just like I get along with Asians and other people.

My pastorial father at President’s College was an Indian teacher we called Rambo because he looked like Sylvester (Sly) Stallone. He was the Math teacher, Mr. Narine.

One of the toughest lecturers in the economics program at UGy was an Indian lecturer we called Dr. Ganga (there were other tough lecturers like Mr. Monplaisir). Dr. Ganga told the class that he would get anyone who scored an A a job at Bank of Guyana. I managed to get an A in his class. However, I didn’t stick around to get that job at Bank of Guyana.

The Indian students at the Hall of Residence at Ugy were nice. I really liked living at the Hall of Residence. (See a picture of the building at: https://fmooresignatureassignment3.blogspot.com/2016/08/rewrite.html.) I also recall that there was an Indian student from Canada who stayed at that Hall of Residence. She was nice too – smiled a lot.

Just reminiscing.

Note: The blog that includes the photos and picture mentioned above is my blog for the Research Methods course at Northcentral University (ncu.edu), http://fmooresignatureassignment3.blogspot.com/)