rolanni | Naming the names

I've been doing a lot of database entry for the day-job these last few weeks, which is cool, in that it gives me a chance at some ...interesting... names. A couple of the names today reminded me of a story. No point to it, really, just a memory...

'Way, 'way back in time, and considerably down-coast, I worked as a secretary in the Dean's office at the School of Social Work at the University of Maryland's graduate schools. I was the second secretary in the office, working with a woman named Nancy, and there had been others before me.

One day, Nancy announced excitedly that -- call her Anna Chang -- who had worked at my desk previous to my arrival was coming for a visit. She was very excited and went on at some length about how very much she loved Anna; how smart and sweet she was, how I was going to love her, too, and how nobody would ever know that she wasn't a native speaker, her English was so good.

I did something stupid, then; I asked what Anna's name was.

She stared at me in consternation. "Anna Chang. I told you."

"Yes, but I meant her Chinese name," said I, stupid to the death.

More consternation. "Well, it must be Anna; we told each other everything, so of course she told me her real name."

"Oh," I said, too late. But I could tell Nancy was still distressed.

Sure enough, next day, when Anna came in, and after they had exclaimed over each other and I had been introduced, Nancy said to Anna, "Sharon asked me what your real name is, but it's Anna, isn't it?"

Anna looked at me, perhaps accusingly. "It's the name I use here," she said. "My real name -- it's not easy for Americans to say."

Nancy teared up. "But -- why didn't you tell me your name?"

"It would be hard for you and I would not have been a good friend, to distress you. Everyone here calls me Anna; it's a name I chose," she said reasonably, then, with a flash of insight, "It's not that I was hiding from you, Nancy."

"I want to learn!" Nancy said, fierce now. "Tell me your name, and I'll learn to say it."

Of course it was impossible, a tangle of syllables my ear couldn't begin to sort out, nor Nancy's. She tried, very earnestly, and got tearier with each failure.

After a while, Anna suggested that they go to lunch and talk over old times. She didn't include me in the invitation, and I didn't blame her.

Nancy never talked to me about Anna again, and I still kinda feel like a heel for having asked that question...