ONE of our readers on Guam, who is Chinese, noted that some news stories involving a Chinese individual usually confuse the person’s surname with his first name. Let’s say, for example, that the person’s name is Lin Xiaoping. The rest of the story, our reader says, will then refer to this person as Xiaoping, which is assumed as his surname. But this is wrong because the Chinese surname is always placed first in the order of names. Hence, Lin Xiaoping’s surname is Lin, not Xiaoping. Now I don’t think John Doe would like to be called Mr. John, so I understand how our Chinese friends feel every time we mess up their names. Anyway, some Chinese who now reside in places where people’s surnames are placed last have given up trying to explain all this, so they have either switched their names (from Jiang Yaobang to Yaobang Jiang), or have taken up Christian names (from Pe Xiaoyan to…Edgar Allan Pe).
It’s not only the Chinese that place their surnames first. Koreans, Native and Chinese Malaysians, Thais, Vietnamese and Myanmars, too. However, the surnames of the Japanese, the Indians, the Indonesians (who sometimes have only one name—e.g., Suharto) and the Hispanicized Filipinos are placed last.
Now let’s talk about middle names. In the U.S., parents can freely choose what middle name they want their child to have. Hence, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, Robert Francis Kennedy, Edward Moore Kennedy. Statesiders don’t find this strange, but for the Hispanicized/Americanized Filipinos this practice is very peculiar indeed. Back home, and even in the Mariana Islands, which were also a former Spanish colony, the surname of the child’s mother automatically becomes the middle name. This is why some Filipinos think that JFK, RFK and Ted Kennedy have different mothers, which is, of course, not the case.
Here’s another “peculiar” example: Harry S. Truman. What does “S” stands for? Just that. Not Simpson, not Smith and no, not Sablan. Just “S.” The parents of America’s 33rd president wanted to honor both his paternal and maternal grandpas (whose names were Shipp and Solomon) without offending neither. So Harry was “given a middle name that began with an S…and stopped right there.”
In Spain and its former colonies, however, the mother’s surname is placed last. For example, Jose Ortega y Gasset. Ortega is the father’s surname, Gasset is the mother’s. “Y” means “and.” But “y” is usually dropped, which makes things a bit confusing for the non-Hispanicized. For example, Fidel Alejandro Castro Ruz. “Alejandro” is the Cuban leader’s middle name, in the American sense of the term. Castro is his father’s surname and Ruz is his mom’s. You can call him Fidel Castro, Fidel Castro y Ruz, or Fidel Castro Ruz or simply Castro. But keep in mind that his surname is Castro.
Here’s another example: Gabriel José Garcia Marquez. The middle name is José, the father’s surname is Garcia and the mother’s surname is Marquez. You can’t call him Señor Marquez. You can call him Señor Garcia, but he prefers to be known as Señor Garcia Marquez.
Now the Philippines, like the Marianas, was later colonized by the U.S., and eventually, Hispanicized Filipino names acquired an American flavor. Juan became John, Pedro became Peter, etc., and one’s maternal surname became the “middle name.” Hence, Juan dela Cruz y Santos is now John Santos dela Cruz. So you can imagine the “confusion” whenever an American dad and a Filipina mom are choosing their kid’s name. The mom will be naturally surprised—and even insulted—if the dad insists that their child’s middle name should not be her surname.
At this point, I would also like to discuss the Russian patronymic, but I just noticed that I have already written enough to fill this space.
Now, now. No name calling please.
