cultural sensitivity 101

A new lesson in cultural sensitivity was learned a few weeks ago.

While working with Morgan Stanley (another story about that place) I met a girl from the islands named Sepiaqua. I couldn't pronounce it either. For almost a week I called her 'Bianca'. She kept telling me that it was 'Sepiaqua'. I'd say,

"That's what I said, Bianca."

Finally, frustrated with my gimpish pronunciation, she spelled it out for me, in big letters like you might see on a 'Hooked on Phonics' card. "Sep-eee-ong-qua". Sepi...what? I couldn't say it at all. So finally I found a word it sounded like. "Aqua", but with a little 'Ong' sound at the beginnig. Random , but effective. So, every time I'd try to pronounce her name I'd have to say that in my head a couple times first. I could then say it just fine. However, every sentence would have a rather lengthy dramatic pause while I figured it out in my head. It went something like this;

"Hey, there.......Sepiaqua, before you go to lunch will you please color collate this pile of sticky notes."

Pretty culturally delicate I thought. I don't put nearly as much thought into every-day names like Doug and Maggie. Besides, like Dale Carnegie wrote, somewhere I'm sure- nothing builds rapport like butchering someones name during the first 5-6 days you know them. A large steamy helping of reverse psychology, showing that distant indifference that is supposed to make them like you even more.

Well, despite this, we became friendly aquaintances. So after a couple weeks I asked her.

"What does your name......Sepiaqua mean, anyway?"

"Girl who took a long time to be born." she replied flatly.

Suprised, I blurted out a loud half laugh-half snort sound, that usually is accompanied by nose bubbles, thinking she was joking of course.

"You're kidding right? 'Girl who took a long time to be born', that's funny. Um...funny...cause...it's so...moving"

I looked up and she wasn't laughing. She was just shaking her head with a half smile on her face that either meant that she thought my sudden response refreshiningly honest, or simply culturally nescient. I told myself it was the first, 'cause I've always believed that your first gut feeling is right 90% of the time.

Well, the awesome part is that I then tried to cover up the flagrant awkwardness by gracefully digging myself out of the hole in which I was so conspicuously flailing. I simply defused the situation by poking fun at MY crazy name.

"That's so..great. Hey, know what? I'm named after a babysitter that my mom had when she was a little girl, that she thought was cute. His name was Todd. Isn't that weird? Man, we're so similiar, you and I. Your mother named you after her excrutiating birthing experience, and mine after a guy she had a crush on. You know there are a few Todd's in the office, guess their were a lot of boys babysitting back then. So different now, don't you think? Can't think of one male babysitter, can you? Those were the good ole' days, eh?"

With the lumpish topic successfully deflected, I quickly exused myself to go to the restroom. Saying there was a man, with little feet, I had to see about some paper work...