What's in a name?

A friend recently told me a story about someone who asked her if it was dangerous in America because of all the "Roberts." It took her a while to figure out that he was referring to "robots," and that his reference was to Terminator II, which he apparently believed to be a live action film.

She assured him that many of the Roberts in America are in fact harmless. Some are even vegetarians.

This story was particularly amusing to me because I have been confused with robots as well - and not just because I am strangely punctual. The letter e is pronounced in Tanzania in its soft "eh" form, while o is pronounced in its round "oh" (think "go") form. So Robert sounds a lot more like "Roh-beht," and sometimes gets further disfigured to Robat, which sounds like "rohbaht" or very nearly "robot."

Other common nicknames include:

• Robart or Robarti (common)
• Robi (pronounced "rohbee")
  
• Robu (pronounced "rohboo," my favorite)
• Much less common is Rabit, which is how my name has twice been spelled on forms, even after I have spelled it for the person writing it

All of which are preferable to "Mazungu" (white person), which I have written about previously.

While my vowels get changed, my consonants have luckily stayed the same. This is particularly impressive in a place where r's and l's are often swapped, such as at my tailoring duka which advertises their work in big letters as "Tairoling." Once an email I sent bounced back, so I swapped the r with the l in the email address, and it magically went through.

But enough about my name. The real story here is everyone else's names.

First there are informative names: for example, someone named Jumanne (Tuesday) was likely born on a Tuesday, and someone named Pili (second) is probably the second born; it can also be assumed that someone named Shida (problem) was probably a pain on the day of delivery. One of my favorite names is Mwanahamisi, who is the daughter (or "mwana") of a man named Hamisi. I know of two people with that name.

Then there are names with positive, optimistic or hopeful connotations: such as Smart, Rich, Innocent, Kupenda (to love), Safiri (to travel) or Bora (best).

Equally common are names with negative connotations: Siwema (wema = goodness; si = not), unlucky, clumsy or the one I most recently learned: Hitler.

My roommate explained the latter names this way: if a family has one child and name her Grace and she dies, and they have another and name him Luck and he dies, they may think they have jinxed themselves and name the third child Unloved. If that child lives, they may think they have found the fix to their curse and continue to name their children in this vein.

Apparently the names Kurua and Doto (and also Buruku and Toy?) are often given to twins in order of their birth, seemingly regardless of gender.

Some others are of religious origin: Marys, Deuses, Johns, Husseins and Emmanuels. My favorite in this genre is "Godliver," which was meant to be "Godlover," but I like the first name best; some people tease, but I say it's not chopped liver.

And of course I am glossing over the myriad Western names (Franks, Georges, Willys, but unfortunately no Martinas), which are occasionally fronts for a much more interesting (at least to me) Tanzanian name.

No matter what many women are called, their name will be changed in adulthood. Women are often named after their firstborn, and they are therefore wise to choose that name carefully. A woman called "Mama Anna" had a firstborn named Anna; someone called "Mama Hawa" had a firstborn named Hawa (Eve). Wouldn't it be interesting to be called the "Mother of ___" your firstborn?

This is true with the exception of Mama Lisha (≈ "Mother Graze" or "Mother Nutrition") which refers to women who sell snacks on the street.

With all of these names, I am one of the few Roberts, or for that matter Robarts, Robartis or Robus. I guess as long as I am not confused with a robot sent from the future, I don't really mind what I'm called.