Jan 30 2009
“My name is Burn. Ash Burn.”
Here’s another installment in the What’s in a name? series.
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When I started reading The Samaritan’s Secret by Matt Beynon Rees, there was something that had me absolutely puzzled. Omar Yussef, the main character, was always being referred to as Abu Ramiz. At first I was so confused, I thought there was someone else we’d not been directly introduced to, but no, Abu Ramiz was Omar Yusseff. Huh??!!
My puzzlement at this was interfering with my enjoyment of the book, so I looked online for an explanation. And found out that it’s a custom in the Middle East to be referred to as the father of one’s eldest son. Abu means father of, and Ramiz, in this case, was the name of Omar’s eldest son. Omar’s wife, then, would also be referred to as Umi Ramiz (or Umm, as stated in the book), meaning Mother of Ramiz.
I did not know that!
Even as the garnering of new knowledge is invigorating, however, it does distress me to see the emphasis made on producing a male heir in this culture. The focus on continuing the line is so strong that newlywed couples also get a new nickname as soon as they are married: in the book, a man called Sami, son of Hassan is getting married to his sweetheart Meisoun; once they are married, people would refer to the couple as Abu Hassan and Umi Hassan, because it was considered almost obligatory for them to not only produce a male child immediately, but to also name said child after his paternal grandfather.
It’s as if you lose your own identity: all you’re good for is the production of a male to continue the line. I’m quite glad to not be under such pressure and obligations!
… this did put me on a train of thought that took me back to Malaysia. Most Malay names have Arabic roots, since all Malays are Muslims, as defined by the Malaysian Constitution. Names with “Abu” are not uncommon, and Abu Bakar is very commonly found. In Malay, however, “Abu” can mean ash, as in what is produced when Fire burns Wood (*wink* at those who followed me through the Paht Chee chart analyses, LoL!); “Bakar” means burn.
… so when a bloke named Abu Bakar finds himself in an English-speaking country, there’s a chance he’ll introduce himself thusly:
“Hi! My name is Burn. Ash Burn.”
It cracked me up, the first time I heard that.
How about you? Do you have any funny “name translations” you’ve come across that have tickled your funny bone? And what do you think about being defined by the male offspring you produce?
Discuss!!



























Growing up, I was always reminded by my mom, that if not for my younger brother, our family fortunes would be in the family once she is gone (not that we have any). Sons are so important for my mom that we, her daughters are constantly reminded how inferior we are. What that did to us was we learn to stand up and be independent. I left home at the age of 13 to head to a boarding school and never look back since. I only go back to my parents home if my other sisters (my two brothers live in my hometown) return home too.
BTW, haven’ heard of the Ash Burn joke for a long time. That crack me up too.
Lina: oh yikes, that’s really not a pleasant way to grow up, is it? Thankfully I wasn’t subject to any of that discrimination within my family. Thank you for sharing.
btw … I actually know of someone who insisted on being called Ash Burn, I met him in my early years in the US. I geleng kepala aje at him,