Devil. Whale. Chlorophyll, Violante, Treacle — you name it, Hong
Kong probably has someone who goes by it.
Inquisitive, enterprising and resourceful journalist
Joyce Man has written an engaging piece to US readers about "weird" names adopted by Hongkongers (see below and
link here).
The
comments section below the piece is also enlightening.
Recommended reading to anyone interested in
novel names.
Devil. Whale. Chlorophyll, Violante, Treacle — you name it, Hong
Kong probably has someone who goes by it. The former British colony is
obsessed with weird English names. Unusual appellations have been found
on people of all kinds. The secretary for justice is Rimsky Yuen ...
Declaration: Joyce Man contacted HKSAR Blog for comments to be put in the article.
[Full Text continues ...]
... and the previous secretary for food
and health was
York Chow. Among celebrities, there is a Fanny Sit, Moses Chan, and
Dodo Cheng. Models? We have a Vibeke, Bambi, Dada, and Vonnie. But
lawyers take the
prize. There is a Magnum, John Baptist, Ludwig, Ignatius, Bunny and
four -- yes, four -- Benedicts.
Odd names make for odder situations. Last July, police arrested a
woman named Ice Wong with 460 grams of ice -- the drug, not frozen
water. Months earlier,
the law caught up with Devil Law when he was brought before a judge
for drug possession and crashing his car into a bus. In 2010, a woman
called Cash Leung
was jailed for paying cabbies with fake cash.
There are so many examples that one blogger keeps a list titled "HKSAR
Name of the Day." HKSAR Blog, which is in its third year running, has
almost 2,000 entries in the list.
Linguistics experts say English names, including unusual ones that
would not be found in Western English-speaking countries, are becoming
more prevalent,
though they cannot pinpoint when the trend began.
"There are no signs of abating," said David Li, a professor at the
Hong Kong Institute of Education's department of linguistics and modern
language
studies. "There are more and more exotic or unusual names if one
cares to collect and document them."
The immigration department, the government body overseeing
identification registration, does not compile statistics on categories
of names, but a cursory
inspection suggests the experts may be right.
In 2005, the author of
HKSAR Blog concluded that the names of 2.5 percent of 5,707 lawyers
were unusual,
uncommon, or unique. When I recently surveyed the current register
of 7,367 lawyers myself, I found the proportion of names matching these
descriptions had
risen to 6 percent.
To unravel why Hong Kongers would choose to be called Whale or Uriah
instead of John or Jane, we must explain why they use English names in
the first
place.
In Hong Kong, where English is an official language and
international commerce is the bread and butter, adopting an English name
often comes naturally. In
the early 1980s, before the government started promoting Chinese as
the language of instruction, 90 percent of secondary schools taught in
English. Some
Hong Kongers are given the names by their parents at birth or by
their teachers at school. Some devise them themselves.
The practice goes back to colonial times. "There was a period when
it seemed desirable or prestigious to have an English name," said
Stephen Matthews, an
associate professor of the linguistics department at the University
of Hong Kong's school of humanities. "Businessmen would take on English
names as a mark
of sophistication or to show they did business with foreigners."
In school, it was easier for English-speaking teachers to remember
students' English names than their Chinese ones, Matthews said. And, as
Li notes in a
1997 paper, addressing students by their English names was one way
to encourage their interest in the language.
Li writes that English first names served as a "lubricant" to speed
up the process of getting acquainted. Chinese forms of address, which
are either very
formal or overly familiar, do not favor quick rapport-building
between strangers.
"In North America or the U.K., people transition to the first-name
basis quickly," he said. "We Chinese are not so willing to use given
names, which are
reserved for people who are really close, like family members."
Matthews estimates that 90 percent of the institution's female and 65 percent of its male students have English first names.
As for the unconventional names, he said they initially arose in
part due to an "incomplete knowledge" of the English language. Hong
Kongers might have not
appreciated the connotation of the name Kinky, for example. Februar
might have been a misspelling or the result of someone over-generalizing
the use of the
names of the months like April, May or June, or both.
Over time, however, people have stopped questioning whether such
variations are real names and accepted them. "It started as an
inadequate knowledge of
English, but if you see an unusual name today, it's because [Hong
Kongers] are taking charge of their own language, not because their
language abilities
are not good," Matthews said. "People feel they can do what they
want with English. If you tell Decemb or Februar that theirs are not
English names,
they'll say, 'I don't care, it belongs to me.' In a way, they're
asserting their Hong Kong identity... [The English language in Hong
Kong] is no longer a
symbol of British influence, but part of people's identity."
Li said the younger generation has found conventional names less and
less attractive and wants to be unique. "I think most such names are
driven by a
desire to be different."
Hong Kongers tend to shop around for a unique name and sometimes
take inspiration from sports brands or luxury labels, for example,
Chanel and Rolex, he
said.
HKSAR Blog's author said substitution, deletion and the insertion of
single letters appeared to be common patterns, which "may indicate a
level of
'creation' or 'creativity.'" First names with the -son suffix are common, too. Examples from the lawyers' list include Samuelson, Winson, Philson
and Garson.
Many English names mimic the sound of Chinese given names. A
solicitor called Tse Kar-son, for example, has Carson as his English
name. Singer Lee
Hak-kan's English name is Hacken. Another singer, Chan Yik-shun, is
called Eason.
Fashion designer Amus Leung's story demonstrates the many forces at
work when adopting an English alias. Leung reminded the teacher who
named her of the
biblical prophet Amos. The teacher cross-bred the name with amuse, which she thought matched Leung's personality and sounded more feminine. "I
love my name English name," said Leung. "It is unique and easy to remember. So far I am the only Amus Leung in the world!"
Ho Wai-leuk, a journalist, got his name another way. "When I was a
student, everyone kept saying my Chinese name really fast until it
started sounding like
'hoh lok,'" he said referring to the Cantonese pronunciation for
Coca-Cola, "so Cola stuck."
It's certainly different from picking a name out of a book. And
that's the difference. As Leung's and Ho's stories show, when naming a
Hong Konger, a
plethora of cultural and linguistic factors are at play. In
countries where English is the mother tongue, parents usually choose
their children's names
from a limited list. As long as Hong Kongers keep getting their
names the way they do, Titarians, Heinzes and Yildizes are going to
continue dotting the
phone book. It's probably for the best. Because when you live in a
city where you can meet a Raimundo, Psyche or Schubert at any moment,
life is more
interesting.