Names
![](//iranian.com/GuiveMirfendereski/Images/port.gif)
Giving Batul a chance
Changing one's name for practical purposes
November 10, 1998
The Iranian
Hamid's letter, "What
do I do? I am Italian," brought a few smiles and a flood of memories.
With a name like mine -- Guive Mirfendereski -- you can imagine how many
times in a day I have to spell it all out or explain each name's origin.
At times, when prudence or productivity dictates, Guive becomes an imaginative
combination of Guy (after Guy de-somebody, the French writer) and Yves
(after Yves Mon-somebody, the French matinee idol). Oh why couldn't my
parents agree on either name?
Of course, Mirfendereski suddenly becomes Polish depending on the circumstances.
In the summer of '86, I had decided that when calling people, particularly
in the Washington bureaucracy, I would introduce my self as Guido Murphy.
One day I called the undersecretary for-something-or-other at the Department
of Commerce to discuss the import classification for Turkish broadleaf
tobacco. When the receptionist asked my name, I triumphantly declared "Guido
Murphy." "How do you spell Guido," she asked in ernest.
Nowadays, at times I use "Steve Mir" and only because Mir
is short and Guive sounds on the telephone like Steve to an untrained ear.
The Westernization of one's name is a personal matter. No indictment
is warranted. Parents who engage in the practice may do it for fantasy,
which at time may turn into a cruel joke. A kid who grows up but never
to the proportions of a Rustam. Marmar who looks as tanned as a crow, or
Shaqayeq who looks nothing like a flower.
Some Western-oriented names are purposive; they reflect on a child's
mixed heritage. A dear friend of mine is named Siamac, Mac for short;
likewise there is nothing wrong with Sohrob being Robbie, Esfandiar being
Essy, Jajanghir being Johnny, Soheila being Loli, Sanjar being Jerry, Sassan
being Sonny, Elaheh being Eli, and the like. There is nothing wrong with
the cultural versatility which this offers a child.
According to one friend, the changing of his name from Farhad, which
was often confused with "forehead" of which he had a vast frontage,
marked his professional success. He chose the name David! Others are not
as far fetched. Some go from Behruz to Bruce, Fareed to Fred.
Business reasons aside, some change their names for social reasons.
According to another friend -- this in 1979 -- his name change was necessitated
by the requirements of dating and his very active social life. In frequenting
the disco scene in Boston, he went from Ali to Alain and from being Iranian
to being a Parisian. One night at a wedding reception, he spent the entire
evening dodging the bride's friend from Paris; Alain did not speak a word
of French!
Wishing to assimilate, integrate and possibly dissolve into the host
culture begins in most cases with conforming one's name to the environment.
After all, identity begins with a name. At New York's Ellis Island emigrants
were given abbreviated names, usually Anglo names based on pronunciation
or meaning of one's original name. This sped up the paperwork.
My own fond memory in this regard is from a party in Tehran back in
1967. A cousin had invited me to a party at her house. On furlough from
boarding school, I spent a considerable number of hours at the party looking
disinterested and fierce. Finally, I worked up the nerve to approach a
girl in a tight blue satin dress.
"Betty," she introduced herself. "Must be West- mannered,"
I thought. To my ears, the name was fraught with possibilities, including
one of easy virtue. A tentative slow dance later, as imagination had began
to leave sweat beads in my palms, it all ended as abruptly as it had begun.
The hostess called her from across the room: "Batul! Batul, your
ride home is here!" "Who's Batul?," I queried from her ear.
The intent in changing one's name is not to fool people; as Hamid says,
the accent is still there in its full glory! Also, looks too betray in
their own way. All this, however, is about being able to communicate without
having to account for or be interrupted or prejudiced by queries about
national origin or to encumber others with a name which can hardly be pronounced
by the lingoculturally-challenged sector of the population -- an intended,
a customer, your boss.