In The Name Of...

A rose by any other name…

Why did I put “LLOYD” instead of Erwin on my blog? I don’t know, really. I could have put “bigasianboi”, or “sircumalot” or “tryinghardblogger”, but I didn’t . I think Lloyd now deserves his 15 years of fame. I was always called Erwin, known as Erwin (though pronounced differently depending on the country: Arvind in India, Erwing in Ethiopia, Herwin in Pampanga and Irvin in Germany). I hated it when Ma’am Polly in high school calls me Lloyd. I think it is so British. Now, it’s Lloyd’s payback time.

Just think. You have a short asian guy with weird first names (ERWIN LLOYD) and a much weirder family name (which I will not put here so as I will not have stalkers!) and having an American accent. Just imagine us talking on the phone, I introduce myself, then we plan to meet. In your mind’s eye you see me as (probably) tall and muscled guy with blond hair and deep blue eyes. But wouldn’t that be a big a disappointment when you meet a short but handsome (just the same) asian?

Of course fate has been kinder to me. What I lack in height, I compensate in a lot of things. Loud voice, a good conversationalist and listener, and most of all Chinese eyes that seem to say: “come to me, I care”… And oh, yeah, I sing, too.

I can’t imagine how some parents would name their children. If they were probably born during the primitive times, naming a child “Tambis” or “Pirot” or “Ugtongan” wouldn’t matter at all. I don’t know if parents chose a certain criteria, a fad, or they have a certain desire to maim their children. I don’t know if you could send your parents to jail for calling you “Mary Babalina” when you actually look like an “Abigail” or an “Ashley”.

I have friends (please forgive me for printing your names!) whose names are as follows: Serafina Naquitquitan, Vlad Menesis (pronounced as Blood Menses), Jacky Chan Lee, Maria Magdalena Santos, and the sisters Thursday Grace and Tuesday Love. I have had patients whose names where Angelina Jolie Dimangcol, Brad Pitt Burgos and of course, the famous, Courtney Cobain Mendoza.

Probably the parents were thinking –“ hmmm, I wonder if I name him this, I would sound witty….Maybe my child will be as famous as the name he/she will carry….”
I have recently read a book “ The Namesake” by Jumpa Lumpiri (I hope I got the name right). It is a story about this man who was named Gogol Ganguly, after his father’s favorite author. Anyway, it is a simple story of how a man struggles to appreciate his name, and carve his own niche as an Indian living in America. Of course, he has to go back to his roots, learn about his family’s past and embrace the tradition that so alien to him.

The moral of the story is, a name is basically that. A name. People may call you the worst sounding name in the world, but it is up to you to make something of THAT name. Others are lucky enough to have inherited their family’s infamy, but for most, it is a long hard struggle.
It didn’t actually take me long to appreciate and love my name. Though it sounds weird and a bit out of place, it is mine. And people know me for that name. I wonder if I would be the same if I was called Peter or Donnovan.

(“Dunuvan, gets down from dat tri. Or else I will calling your mader across the pens…” Imagine having a yaya like that)

It didn’t take long for me to discover that I was born to be famous. With a name like that where would I go wrong?

Wanna bet your name?