Yesterday, I received an email from a woman named Pepper Wu; last weekend, the receptionist who checked my family into a hotel in Macau answered to “Princess;” and not long ago, a shop clerk who waited on me called herself, “Cinderella.”
I assume it’s a legacy of Hong Kong’s status as a former English colony, but many a Hong Konger, at some point in his life, elects a western-style moniker to augment or replace the Chinese name his parents so lovingly chose for him. Chinese naming is a long, well-considered process, often involving feng shui masters and ancient tradition. The same cannot be said for the selection of a western name. It’s true, some are chosen when the child is born, but it is my experience that many are determined much later, for example, when one enters university or seeks employment.
Consider one of my friends: she became “Vera” when she entered elementary school and her teacher suggested to the class that it was time each student selected a western name. Upon hearing her story, I sat for a moment and thought about what I might have chosen for myself at 5. Something from a television show? Tabitha? Or book? Flopsy? I shudder to think. All in all, I think Vera did very well. Most of my friends had more time to think about it – and mature – choosing their names as young adults. Many of the names I have come across are lovely: Larisa, Gabrielle, Emily, and Sheryn. Some are simply unusual: Mabel, Pascal, GiGi and Elvis; still others are, to say the least, odd.
As I asked my friends – both Chinese and foreign – about the strangest English names they had ever come across in Hong Kong, a competition emerged with lots of winners. It seems that many locals have not felt constrained by the standard choices encountered in “Name Your Baby” type books. Instead, they have expanded the list of options to include all words in the English language. How else would you explain names such as Coffee, Rain, Open, Motor, Peanut, Laser, Purple, Hertz, Avis, or Cinderella? And then of course there was Elf Poon, who used to work at one of the local groceries. Still, these names could be chalked up to a creative spirit.
Then there’s the land of bizarre. My friend, Adam, once met someone named “Chlorophyll.” Another friend told me that not long ago her husband – in a moment of silliness – called her from Citibank, “The name of person who helped me today was named Peon Me. Get it? HA! HA!” But really, the grand prize must go to my friend Katy, who is in receipt of a business card from a woman at Hong Kong’s local telephone company. What was her name? “Vagina Yuen.” Maybe there’s something to be said for those Name Your Baby books after all.