“We didn’t worry at all about if people will be able to pronounce our daughter’s long name,” says Divan, a dad of one. “Actually, there is a guy we met when we moved to Beijing. His name is Gregory and we asked him if he introduces himself as Greg cause it’s easier to pronounce. But he said no, he wanted to be called by his full name. That always stuck with me.”

Choosing your baby’s name is never a simple task. There’s so much to consider when picking the perfect name for your child: family traditions, potential nicknames, siblings’ names, initials, meanings, how well it fits your last name, and the list goes on.

It gets even more complicated for people living on foreign ground. As expats, we are influenced by (at least) two cultures. So how do we honor our homeland, our host city, and the culturally diverse community Beijing has made us a part of when choosing a name for our baby? Do we err on the side of caution and keep it short and simple to improve our chances of pronunciation success, or do we go with a hard-to-pronounce baby name and not mind it being butchered each time we try to make a doctor’s appointment?

There’s no way to fully avoid the cross-cultural headache that foreign names of expat kids will most likely cause. Living in China and naming your child anything other than Peter or Amy often do not mix well, so we wanted to find out what Beijing parents have to say about this topic. What made them choose their child’s name, and do they think they made the right choice?

I’ve never been very traditional with anything, and naming my kids was no exception. Both of them were born in Beijing, one pre- and the other post-Covid ( well, not really “post-” because it seems we’ll never get to the “post-” part), and both times I knew we were not going to take the traditional route.

We’d been living in Beijing for so long, and made so many friends from different parts of the world, that it only made sense we would want them to be able to pronounce our children’s names. But let’s be clear. We didn’t choose their names so their preschool teachers, friends’ parents, or distant cousins could pronounce them easily. We chose their names because we thought they were perfect.

The first time, with Noa, we had it all figured out – we were going to go with an international name with a traditional spelling, in this way keeping the connection to our country of origin. Things got a bit more complicated the second time around with Noel, but we finally got to the point where we narrowed it down to two names. But I was so indecisive that I told my husband we should wait until the baby is born to pick the name. And that’s exactly what we did.

Now we have two perfect children with two perfect names.

Because that’s the only thing that matters: The names we choose for our children have to suit us, not anyone else. So how did Beijing’s littlest get their names?

For expat dad David and his family the choice was obvious: “Too many letters in my last name for the hospital computer. Used my wife’s three-letter Chinese family name instead.” The administrative headache factor is definitely a factor that cannot be disregarded. “[The Beijing Family Hospital] computer handled my husband’s long last name fine,” said Lisa Hwang. “Also, we thought at the time the birth certificate and passport names needed to match. We did finally decided to give up on any middle names because we already totaled 21 letters with our son’s first and last name together. It has proven helpful now with [the]daily community Covid testing manual passport input process,” she explains. “We now walk in with a printed paper with our details [in]large fonts.”

While for some it’s a practical decision, for some parents the name they choose needs to reflect their faith and religious identity. ”When we learned that we were pregnant, we knew it from the very start that if a boy, we would name him Jibreel, the angel of revelation,” says Crestie Ilagan, a Filipino mom raising a multicultural child. “In Arabic, Jibreel means ‘God is my strength.’ Our son is a daily reminder of God’s love for both of us. He is our miracle.”

For some others the choice was affected by different factors. For instance, Anja Nesovic, a mom of two, had different concerns about naming her children: “My first one was born in 2017 and my husband and I settled on her name pretty quickly. Our son was born two years later and it was quite a process, picking out a name for him. I’d say that living here had definitely had a big impact on our decision. We wanted traditional names that can be easily pronounced by Chinese people, and I think we found the perfect ones. I think that living here made us not even consider names that we would have normally considered, living back home. There are a few sounds in our language that sound very funny when pronounced by non-natives so we decided not to go with names that contain these sounds. We didn’t want our kids’ names mangled.”

Alison Lemos says that, since his wife’s and his name have the same initial letter, they wanted their kids’ names to start with the same letter, too. However, it wasn’t an easy ride for them. ”We always agreed on the first letter of our children’s names,” he said. “But we argued both times about the actual names, even more the second time. There was one name that I liked because it means happiness and good luck in my language, but has a completely opposite meaning in hers – it means ‘widow.’ So in the end, we went with a name that is uncommon in both countries.”

How about you? How did you pick your child’s name? Tell us in the comment section below.

Images: Pexels

If you’re in desperate need of a Chinese name and all you can come up with is something like 安吉拉 ān jí lā – i.e. a homophonic translation of your English name, in this case, Angela – you’re not alone. And if you still think you can get away with something like 小红 xiǎo hóng or 小明 xiǎomíng, basically the Chinese equivalents of Anna and Bob, then it’s time to come up with a better Chinese name for yourself.

宇涵 yǔ hán

The female name, Yuhan, has a beautiful meaning. The word yu represents grace, heaven, and earth, while han represents inclusivity and moisture. The five lines of yu are earth (土), symbolizing confidence and sentimentalism. But the five lines of han are water (水), symbolizing the wisdom of the lord, intelligence, and kindness. Therefore, the person bearing this name is confident, sentimental, intelligent, and kind, and he/she will enjoy a prosperous life free from hardship.

梓淇 zǐ qí

The interpretation of zi refers to deciduous trees and often implies respect and obedience towards your parents and elders. Qi refers to various water sources which signify the intelligence and gift of the child. Together, Ziqi represents precious talent and beauty. The person bearing this name is thought to possess outstanding talents and cherish his/her hometown. Lastly, Ziqi can be used for both boys and girls alike.

欣怡 xīn yí

This name is common among girls and features prominently in Chinese dramas. Xinyi symbolizes joy, excitement, and happiness. When used as a name it expresses a parent’s wish that their child will be happy and carefree. It also means that the girl will grow up to be lucky, beautiful, generous, and happy.

梦瑶 mèng yáo

Mengyao is a beautiful female name with rich Chinese roots. The word meng means dream and refers to the innate psychological phenomenon. Meanwhile, yao comes from the ancient Chinese adage: “The beauty of stone.” The meaning of this word refers to precious gems such as jade and is used as a metaphor to suggest that the girl will be very outstanding and bright. Girls bearing this name are prophesied to have successful futures and will have the courage to pursue their dreams.

浩宇 hào yǔ

Haoyu is a popular name for boys. The word hao comes from an old Chinese saying, “In the vastness of man, and in the midst of a great crowd.” It symbolizes greatness, being handsome, and having good manners. Yu is commonly used for a boy’s name, which highlights his demeanor. Therefore, the person bearing this name is thought to be extraordinary, just, courageous, open-minded, inclusive, generous, and elegant.

俊杰 jùn jié

When taken together, the two words Junjie mean handsome in Chinese, making it the perfect name for a boy. The five lines of jun are fire (火) meaning that he has a hot temper and is overly confident in his abilities. The five lines of jie are wood (木), signifying that the person is very sentimental, accepting, and a lover of the world. Therefore, the person bearing this name is kind, optimistic, sincere, organized, and inclusive. They are patient with others and work hard.

KEEP READING: Having Difficulty Learning Chinese? Try the New Xinhua Dictionary!

Images: Baidu Hanyu, Unsplash

Picking a name for your kid is no easy task – after all, this is the moniker that will follow your child for the rest of her life. Take the States for instance, where Chinese kids with unfortunate English names abound. The Eunices, Arvids, Pearls and Eugenias that I grew up with all have their parents to blame for their awkward handles – and they would have been much better off on the playgrounds of America with just English phoneticizations of their Chinese names. Fortunately my parents had the good sense to take my Chinese name 家伟 “Jia Wei” and phonetically translate into “Jerry” (though here in China people can’t seem to get enough of the Cat and Mouse references). 

So it was with this in mind that I christened my daughter with the English name Marianne. We chose this Gallic-sounding name for a couple of reasons: first, because it hearkens back to the four years my wife spent in Paris, and second, because as with my name, it was more or less an English phoneticization of our baby’s original Chinese name, Mei Yuan (美苑).

This name was initially appealing because the “Mei” stood for the fact that I am from the States (Mei Guo, 美国), her maternal grandmother’s name has the same “mei” at the end, and the fact that like all giddy, new parents, we think our own baby is the most beautiful in the world (as in mei li, 美丽). The “Yuan” (苑), a rather uncommon character, was originally thought up by my wife’s father because it roughly translates into the “juncture of culture and technology” (or so I’m told). From that came her nickname, or “xiao ming” (小名) in Chinese, Mei Mei (美美) – which has stuck.

Unfortunately her original Chinese name has not. The name “Zhan Meiyuan” (詹美苑), nice-sounding as it is, did not match up with the stars – or more specifically, did not jibe with the system of Zi Wei Dou Shi (紫微斗数), which chinese-astrology.blogspot.com defines as the “study of a person’s life based on the movement and location of the North Star (known as the “Zi Wei,” 紫微, in Chinese) and 100-plus other stars at the specific time the person was born.” Apparently, Mei Mei’s birth date and time, combined with the number of strokes in the character of our family name (Chan, or “Zhan” 詹) meant that she lacked the element of “wood” (mu 木), based on the Chinese Five Elements theory – an ancient Daoist system that posits how “natural changes within the body are affected by the outside environment." The “Five Elements” (wood, fire, earth, metal and water – mu, huo, tu, jin, shui – 木，火，土，金，水) are like metaphors that describe the physiological interactions between your body and the environment (think of experiments from your high school chemistry class). This overly simplified explanation pretty much sums up the extent of my understanding of this metaphysical philosophy, and I suspect that most people here have just about the same grasp of this ubiquitously Chinese tradition (hence the demand for naming companies and websites like xingming.net).

Ironically enough, my father-in-law – a retired general who never used to believe in this stuff – was the first to raise the point of consulting a Zi Wei Dou Shu specialist before settling on our baby’s name. I’ve never really understood the nuances of Chinese astrology with its animal zodiac signs and complex I-Ching references, but I’ve seen how it has reestablished a firm hold on the public’s imagination and beliefs here in China – especially when it comes to naming babies. And not having a clue about what how to go about picking a good Chinese name, I agreed, figuring that it was all for custom’s sake. So off we went to Yonghegong (the Lama Temple), where among the dozen or so shops mostly selling incense, scroll paintings and such, a few offer name consultation services based on the Zi Wei Dou Shu.

The chain-smoking chap at the naming company we settled on gave us a form with fields for our family name, time and date of birth (in both the Gregorian and lunar calendars), gender and Chinese zodiac sign. After we filled it out, he pulled out a tea-stained little tome and began flipping through pages, counting on his fingers and murmuring to himself (all the whilst lighting up cigarettes – he smoked at least four in our 25 minutes there). My in-laws and I sat across from him, transfixed, as he scrawled out different ba gua (八卦) signs (those little solid and dotted lines that surround the yin and yang symbol, as on the South Korean flag) and a few words of what we gathered to be little Marianne’s fate.

After a few more moments of furrowing his brow and long exhalations of cigarette smoke, he flicked his comb-over, looked up at us and spoke: “This little one is going to be pretty damn smart.” My in-laws beamed. “But,” he added, “she lacks the element of wood, which means that she will not have a natural propensity for gaining wealth. But, she is gifted in the fine arts and should be encouraged to pursue a career in music, dance, design or writing. She’s definitely very intelligent but will need to be encouraged to study because she’ll have a tendency to coast by on her street smarts.” At this point, visions of my bohemian daughter strumming a guitar in the subway for pocket change flooded my mind, and I began wondering if, 30 years from now, she’d still be living in our basement.

He went on to reveal a few more details: “Her life and career would be best pursued in the east, southeast or south [i.e. here in Asia], and tigers, rabbits, sheep, snakes and pigs would be her ideal matches, but she shouldn’t marry too early.” More visions of basement couch surfing raced through my mind. Our smoking soothsayer went so far as to specify what colors (green, red and purple) would be best for her undergarments, as well as her lucky numbers (1, 3, 11, 13, 21, 23, 24, 31, 32, 33, 41 and 52) in life.

Then came the all-important name selections. We were given a total of ten characters – five (zi, jing, yue, ruo, yan – 紫, 婧, 悦, 若, 焉) for her first name, and the rest (yu, ting, han, tong, chu – 妤, 廷, 含, 彤, 初) for the second name. Any combination of the former selection with the latter would have the sufficient number of character strokes and the “presence of wood” to help balance out her fortunes.

My far-from-perfect Chinese meant that accepting all this was done with a leap of faith, but my in-laws, for their part, seemed adequately convinced. We went home to sleep on it, and the next day, after consulting the meanings of different combinations in the dictionary and online, we finally settled on Zhan Jingyu (詹婧妤) – a name whose second character specifically means “fortune for women” and whose third character denotes a high female official’s ranking from the Han Dynasty.

The name scores a 96 out of 100 on xingming.net.

Our name consultant’s website can be found at www.qimingzhai.com.

Barney would have been a lovable, perhaps slightly dimwitted fellow. Would he have been taller? Thought of as more dependable guy? More attractive to the opposite sex? Who can say, but I am a firm believer in this notion, and I do find myself thinking about it quite a lot.

In January of this year, my sister gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. When it came time for her to name this child, she immediately thought that she’d have to drop the nickname of “Buddy” (named after a character in the movie Elf, starring Will Ferrell) that she’d been using to refer to the tyke while he was inside her tummy. “No, we can’t call Buddy ‘Buddy’,” she said. “Lets call Buddy ‘Oscar’”. Her dependable hubby Dave agreed. But when it came time for them to sign the birth certificate, the name just didn’t stick. This child wasn’t an Oscar; he was a Buddy. I’m sure in some parallel universe Oscar Lamb is walking around somewhere, but I’m sure he’s nowhere near as loveable as this chubby-faced little guy.

For those facing the same predicament, there are all sorts of techniques available to help with the decision. The Big Book of Baby Names is a good place to start (Mergatroyd is cool name for any of you brave parents out there). Some web-savvy parents decided to base their decision over what domain name they could secure for them (“MableKinsella.com, come down for dinner!”). I would suggest simply googling the name you prefer just in case: For a long time I’ve wanted to call my daughter (if I ever have one) Audrey Rose, but unfortunately Audrey Rose is coincidentally the name of an obscure 1970s horror film. I guess I should keep searching.

With less than a year to go, anticipation for the Olympics seems to be growing by the day – on billboards and television commercials, passing street vendors selling memorabilia or simply passing through a tunnel while riding on the subway.

It seems that some parents couldn’t hold their excitement in, as almost 3,500 children have been named "Aoyun" (Chinese for "Olympics") since as early as 2000, when China first made the bid for the upcoming Games. According to a Beijing Daily report cited by the Associated Press, only six of these kids live in Beijing and a majority of them male.

An additional 4,000 or so Chinese also share their names with the Beijing Olympic mascots, otherwise known as the "Five Friendlies,” the report said. Yao Ming, the tallest player in the NBA who hails from Shanghai, is also the name of 5,598 other people in China, and 18,462 others are named Liu Xiang, the world’s fastest hurdler, the report stated.

Are the Chinese lost in sport frenzy? Or are they simply caught up in Olympic excitement? Or better yet, are these similarities a result of having a country with a population of 1.3 billion in which 87 percent share 129 family names? Probably all of the above.