Global Naming
What do a Utahan and a Colombian name their Swiss baby?
by Anna Dilemna
March 10, 2008
Ever met a guy named Hochiminh Gonzalez? If so, chances are that he was from Venezuela, where a culture of whimsical baby-naming — Maolenin, Superman, Yurbiladyberth! — has flourished. I come from Utah, where there is also a tradition of creative baby naming via odd spellings, Book of Mormon names, and a particular fondness for adding the prefix "La." Large families had to be inventive to differentiate among so many children. Thus, all the little Nephis, LaFonns and LaVerls. One can't help but feel relieved that the Mormon church withdrew its missionaries from Venezuela in 2005, saving untold infants from being named LaMaolenin.
I didn't marry a Venezuelan, but I came close: my husband is Colombian. You'd certainly expect that when a girl from Utah gets married to a guy from Colombia, there'd be a few cultural differences, but I wasn't too concerned. So what if he came from a country where they liked to dump flour on each other after soccer games? So what if my great-great grandfather had four wives? Alex and I loved each other! Besides, he'd spent half his life in New York City and seemed pretty American. We both liked beef patties and seeing obscure bands play at loft parties, so how different could we be?
It wasn't until I got pregnant that our cultural differences began to rear their little cabecitas.
When we decided to move to Japan, I figured that would just be one more cultural influence to add to the mix. Sushi goes fine with Colombian empanadas and Mormon jello salad.
It wasn't until I got pregnant that our cultural differences began to rear their little cabecitas. What religion to raise him in? Whether or not to pierce her ears the instant she popped out of the womb? But the biggest one: we just couldn't agree on what to name the kid. "How about Charlotte?" I'd ask. "No," he'd respond. "My mother would pronounce it with a hard "ch," like "charcoal." Names containing "ch" were out. Also nixed were any Spanish names which contained an "r," because (despite my best efforts and a childhood full of "Rrrrrruffles Have Rrrrridges" commercials) I was still unable to pronounce the rolled Spanish "r" without sounding as though I were dislodging a hairball. One day, Alex said that he thought the name Stephanie was pretty. Stephanie was the name of my third-grade nemesis, a mean, chubby eight-year-old girl who would never share her Twinkies. We would not be naming our baby Stephanie.
©2008 Anna Dilemna and Nerve Media
About the Author
|
|
Related Articles
|
|
Anna Dilemna has written for Craft, The Green Parent and Practical Parenting. She has lived all over the world, and is in the midst of moving to Madrid, Spain. Meanwhile, she resides with her two-year-old son in Salt Lake City, Utah. Her website is annadilemna.typepad.com |
|
|
-
by Steven Johnson
The suburbs are overrated.
-
by Susan Gregory Thomas
Marketers say we're trying to relive our '70s childhood — and spending a fortune in the process.
-
by Steve Almond
The joy and pain of being a work-at-home parent.
|
