Unsolicited as it might be, I am trying to take the view point that maybe this is a message I need to hear. I have done some good here and affected people in positive ways. Bewildering perhaps, but nice to know.
My series 3 postcard involved a young woman who introduced herself to me at a dance class and then proceeded to say she had arrived from Ivory Coast and left her job because she didn't feel she was making as much of an impact as she wanted and she was searching for motivation and inspiration again. Yup. Wisdom from the universe.
But, although these social transaction might lead to me believe all Africans are poetic and use language at a level us Americans might never arrive at (yes, even I have been accused of being "too direct") that's not the myth I am here to break.
Myth # 17- All Africans have weird names. As a teacher, I am handed a list of student names every September. Teachers around the globe can agree that often it is the most daunting list you might receive. There are names on there that don't easily identify the gender of the student, or even worse, hint at a gender only to be completely misleading. There are names that aren't pronounceable- or at least don't appear so at first glance- we all usually get it by the about the second week or so. And there are names that you think you know, until you find out half the letters are 'silent.'
Since coming to an international school, I have been given lists with some fabulous names on them. South African names, Dutch names and plenty, plenty of completely recognizable names. This year I have two Emmanuels, two Zafirs, a Saifan and a Zayaan. There is an Ophelia and an Ophelie. A Sofia and a Sophie. (Maybe you can see why I am having a little trouble keeping everyone straight this year. They're not all in the same class but that doesn't really help.)
Most names in Congo (post Mobutu I suppose) are Christian names. Plenty of Josephs and Christians, there are Bens, Daniels and John Pauls (or John Pierres or just plain Johns.) For the women, Vero, Vera, Veronique, Evelyne, Antoinette, Elizabeth. Of course, Congolese have incredibly long names (I have counted 5 or 6, though admittedly most hoover around 4) and it can sometimes be hard to tell which name is preferred. It seems to depend on the situation and the audience.
My most famous (infamous?) name blunder has to do with Kazadi, whom I first met as Fred. I simply could not believe his name was Fred (he doesn't look like a Frederic) and so I asked him what his mom would call him. Perhaps something got lost in the translation (this all occurred in one of our first conversations) and he told me "Kazadi," his last name. After moving to Kinshasa, he adopted the name (of course, I introduced him to everyone that way and so I am not sure how willful an adoption it really was.) He is always ready to laugh and say I changed his name- so perhaps it wasn't a terrible thing.
But when I look back, I see my ignorance. Not only didn't he look like a Fred, I just couldn't believe, at that time, that a mom in the wilds of Africa would name her baby Fred. So much for being open minded and worldly.
I've grown a lot in the last 6 years however- or so I like to think. But then I saw this painting at my aforementioned friend's house and had to snap a photo. Just to prove to you? myself? that all Africans don't have weird names.
