What's In A Name?

Now, with that title, I know a percentage of my readership (of a certain age and upbringing...) will immediately have a particular Petra song running through their heads. But we're going to move Beyond Belief (they got that too) and talk about names.

It's on my mind because school started this week, and I've been called "Teacher! Teacher!" an awful lot. It reminds me of when I was a 16 year old aide at the YMCA childcare program, and one little boy always called me "Mrs!" That's all. Not Jessie, not Miss Jessie, not Miss Gac, not even Mrs. Gac, but just "Mrs!" Anyhow, "Teacher-teacher!" has been my name this week. With the two new Asian girls who just started American school, I carefully explained that, though in their culture it was respectful to address all educators as teacher, in our culture we show respect by using the last name but putting "Miss" in front of it. I was proud until they referred to my coworker Paul as "Miss Bedsole." We've clarified that.

My last name presents a challenge even for native English speakers; I spent part of each class period the first day helping them say "Miss Gac" with confidence. And then I explained that since I was picky about how my name was said, I fully expected them to be picky with the pronunciation of their own names. Again, I was humbled. After seven years of Analisas, Ramons, Pedros, and only one Tianyi, I thought I could pronounce names. Il Gon, Eun Chung, Saemy, and especially Ouangatobi might beg to differ. On the other hand, I was told I am the only teacher to ever pronounce "Rodrigo Gaete" correctly on the first try. :)

Unfamiliar names are harder to remember, so I've discovered I can't do my seating charts this weekend like I normally would; I can't quite remember who's who. But in some ways that's a bonus- I've had more restful days off and spent them well. This afternoon some of the other teachers and I went to Hawker's Market, an open-air produce market about 10 minutes away. Here names are important too- if I buy from someone I don't know, I get called "madam" or "mzungu" (whitey) and get terrible prices. But if I buy from Michael, Lucy, or Eunice, they recognize me from last week, smile at me, call me Jessie, and give me a good price. In fact, if they do not have what I need, they will go to a neighboring stand owner, negotiate a fair price for me and introduce me to that person. Obviously, relationships are a pretty important factor here. I appreciate that.

Michael, the fruit stand owner we know, took us to the city park next to the market so we could feed the monkeys. We brought maize and bananas for them, and once I got over my fear that I one would bite me and I would catch a terrible disease, it was lots of fun. They hold your hand while they eat to make sure the food source doesn't go away, and they're obviously not shy! It's about a million times better than feeding the ducks at Ashley Pond, and I chronicled the event with a few pictures:

My friends the monkeys (though I don't yet know their names).

Michael and Jess, both monkey magnets.

A beautiful bouganvilla tree- they grow a little better here than in New Mexico.