Names and indentities

"Like in our traditional practice, he is named after his grandfather," my father commented.

The first born is named after the paternal grandparent.  How about the second child?  It depends.  If the second child is the same sex, then the name is the maternal grandparent's name.  A different sex means that the first two kids have the names of the paternal grandparents.  The mother's lineage is for leftovers!

In that tradition, I would have usually been given the name Ramaswamy--my paternal grandfather's name.  But, I wasn't.  The social norms were rapidly changing in the urban and industrial parts of India, and Ramaswamy was old fashioned a name.  Capturing the "Ram" in Ramaswamy, my father came up with Sriram.

I was also given an alias that was used in the formal, Hindu religious and ritualistic contexts: Venkataramasubramanian.  Boy am I glad that this multi-syllable name is not in the official records!

Traditional names are part of the cultural landscapes. Every cultural landscape has its own tradition.  The Icelandic last names are different from the Slavic ones, which are different from Nigerian.  You get the point.  Even within the cultures, traditions are being challenged. Like the Czechs questioning the gendering of last names.

But, even more challenging is when people with names from one culture move to lands with completely different cultures.  

I first got a taste of this as a graduate student when I was surrounded by students from China and South Korea.  "Strange" names with unusual spellings.  But, it was not a huge problem to overcome.  Mungjin and Rongsheng became familiar sounds. 

What I could not understand was a few students taking on Western, Christian names in order to make it easy for the natives.  Why they preferred to lose their identities was simply beyond my imagination and understanding, despite engaging with them about this issue.

I couldn't imagine walking around as "Sam" just because a few natives couldn't pronounce my name.  Sam I am not.  Nor am I a Sri.  I am Sriram, as I have always been.

A cardiologist, who is about my age, writes about her name--Xiaoyan Huang--in the Washington Post:

When I first came to the United States in the late 1980s, for college, I immediately realized that Americans had a hard time pronouncing my name. (Roughly, it’s see-ow yen.) Some people mocked the name; for others, mastering it was a genuine struggle. Meanwhile, among Asian students, I soon learned, my name put me on the lowest rung of the social ladder on campus. The kids who were born in America, or who immigrated with their parents at a young age, often had American names.

Of course, "Xiaoyan" stumps me when I read that string of letters.  It is new.  Just like Quixote was new to me.  Just like I had to learn to pronounce Foucault too!

How did she get that name?

Because Chinese civilization is built upon our profoundly metaphorical language, the words chosen for a baby’s given name are perceived as being critically important in the identity of that person. When I was born in Beijing, my parents carefully selected my given name using the traditional methods. But on his way to the district office to file my birth certificate — or so my parents told me — my father, in his usual romantic and impulsive way, decided unilaterally to change the name. He settled on “Xiao Yan.” “Yan” is a key component of my mother’s name, referencing Yan’an, her birth place — also a center of the Chinese Communist revolution — while “Xiao” means “small.” The name expresses his love for both of us.

I am glad that her professor in Oregon advised her to ditch adopting a Christian name: “Your name is your identity — stick with it”.

Yes!

What's in a name? Try Kim! Or, how about Venkataramasubramanian?

One of the many practical issues that a global village idiot like me has to deal with as we move away from the cultures and traditions in which we were raised is this: from reading a name, how do we know whether it is male or female?

I laugh now thinking about the months and years when I continued to be fresh-off-the-boat.  But, it was not easy then and was quite stressful.

The first was with a Kim.  As a political junkie, I had known that Kim is a common Korean last name.  But then there was also Kim Bassinger; how could a young man forget this Kim!  Yet, I was stumped when I had to address an application for financial support to a Kim "lastname."  I checked with my professor, Jim.  He politely said something like "I think it is a female and you might want to use Ms."

Years later, here in Oregon, as is my practice, I scanned through the rosters before the first day of classes, to check for any familiar names of students I might have had before and for names that could potentially stump me.  I walked into one of the classes and as they introduced myself I was checking off the names in my printout.  It turned out that the student with the name "Kym" was male!

Over the years, I have learnt to be careful with Robin and Pat and Taylor and Jordan--one can never assume the gender with those names.  But, these days life is getting more and more complicated as parents aim for creative names and spellings for their children.  There was a Michael, but a female student.

I have never had to wonder what people in an alien culture might think about names like mine.  I experienced that right from my first day in this adopted country of mine.

I do miss some old names.  A favorite from the old country was the multi-syllable Sivaramakrishnan.  In graduate school, my adviser once gave me a copy of a book authored by a Sivaramakrishnan and told me that he was not even going to attempt pronouncing the name.  He knew the author was a guy because of the bio on the book jacket!

Growing up in India, I was fascinated by a name: Zbigniew Brzezinski.  Now, with that kind of a name, it really does not matter if a male or a female answered the call--you just don't mess with a person walking around with that name and it is simply "Yes, ma'am. Uh, yes, sir. Uh, sorry. Yes!"

BTW, why so many Kims in Korea--like the recent golf winner Kim Hyo-Joo? (Quick, do you know if the name Kim Hyo-Joo is of a male or a female?  Keep in mind that the surname comes first.)

As in many other parts of the world, surnames were a rarity until the late Joseon dynasty (1392-1910). They remained the privilege of royals and a few aristocrats (yangban) only. Slaves and outcasts such as butchers, shamans and prostitutes, but also artisans, traders and monks, did not have the luxury of a family name. ... The stranger, in turn, acquired a noble surname.
As family names such as Lee and Kim were among those used by royalty in ancient Korea, they were preferred by provincial elites and, later, commoners when plumping for a last name.

What an interesting life I have lived, and you have also lived, so far away from our respective old traditions, right?

Thus ends the blog-post by this writer who was once formally referred to, during the ritualistic Hindu Brahminical ceremonies, as Venkataramasubramanian, which is definitely a testosterone-filled manly man's name! ;)

What's in a name?

Curiosity is limitless.  I live that every single day.  I wonder about the trivial and the profound. I only wish I were smart enough to answer them.

A friend talked about the thought he and his wife put into naming their kids.  As I was driving back home, I wondered if I could identify myself with any other name.  After all, I do have another name that was uttered only in formal Hindu ritualistic contexts--Venkataramasubramanian.

I imagined coming to the United States with that name.  A passport with the full name of Krishnamurthy Venkataramasubramanian.  I imagined waiting in line at the DMV and the clerk struggling to utter even one syllable from that polysyllabic name.  I laughed hysterically while negotiating the curves on a dark night.

It doesn't take much to amuse me!

The curious brain then transitioned to what might be the longest single word name ever recorded.  I hypothesized that there could be plenty of place names that will be way longer than Venkataramasubramanian.  Given the German fascination for adding up words together, an additional hypothesis was that the longest single word name would be of a place somewhere in Germany.

You see what happens when one does not drink alcohol or take drugs and drowns in coffee instead?

In the centuries past, what did the equivalents of me do?  Perhaps their curiosity simply drove them insane and they jumped off the nearest cliff?

Thankfully, it is such a joy to live a foolish life in the age of Google and Wikipedia.  A few years ago, Radio Shack used to advertise with a catchy line,  “you've got questions, we've got answers."  That is a lot more descriptive of the dynamic duo of Google/Wikipedia.

I went to the oracle:

Imagine that: more than 34 million results in less than half-a-second!

We vastly under-rate and under-appreciate the phenomenal access to information that our contemporary world provides us.  I am unable to understand the criticism that Google and other technologies are dumbing us humans down.  As I noted before, Google has immensely simplified my life and Google has made me smarter, and not stupid, by any means. If at all, I am stupider when offline without Google!  I remind students all the time that Google is their best friend.

Anyway, back to the 34 million results to my question and the hypothesis.  Turns out that the place with the longest single word name is not in Germany after all.  Not anywhere near it.

Wikipedia says that it is all the way down under in New Zealand.  85 letters in the English language!

So, what does the name mean?

Translation: "The summit where Tamatea, the man with the big knees, the climber of mountains, the land-swallower who travelled about, played his nose flute to his loved one"

What a lovely meaning that tells a story all by itself!

So, what might be the longest place name in the old country?  Wikipedia answers that too: Venkatanarasimharajuvaripeta

I cannot imagine these places with any other names now, as much as I can think of me only with the name I now go by.  After all, no Romeo I am! ;)

What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.