Dave’s Not Here. How the Philippines Changed My Name Back to David.

I always hated my name. Not sure why but I thought my friends Mark, Lee and Eric (called Ricky) had cooler names. Mostly it must have been the fact that when my mother was mad at me I heard that “Daaaviddd.” Hated it.

At 17 I went off to college where all young people re-invent themselves. I introduced myself to everyone as Dave and from then on that’s what I was. I told the family – eventually – and some of them made the switch – though others never could.

At 32 I got married to wife #1. She liked David and insisted on calling me that. I was in love (or maybe just horny) and let her. Six years later we got divorced and I determined never to be called David again. Wife #2 admitted she actually preferred David but knew better than to call me that. My darling Janet always called me Dave.

Segway 32 years. I am 64 and retired in the Philippines. I go into Robinsons and make a purchase in the department store. “What is your name, Sir?” I am asked for the sake of the receipt. “Dave,” I respond. “Steve?” “No, Dave.” “OK, Steve. “No Dave. You know like ‘Dave’s not here.'” Stares of incomprehension.

The next day I am at Citi Hardware. Same thing. “Can I get your name for the receipt, Sir.” Same confusion. OK, the clerks are cute so I give them a break, but it’s annoying.

Everywhere in the Philippines I am asked for my name. This is interesting coming from a culture in which anonymity is so prized.

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After at least a dozen of these episodes I respond, “Dave. You know like David.” “Ah, Sir David! Yes.” Success of sorts.

For a couple more months I continued to explain that Dave was from David. Finally I got tired of it.

“Sir, what’s your name for our records?” “David,” I mumbled. “Thank you, Sir David.”

From then on I figured what the hell and answered to David. If you’ve lived in the Philippines for any length of time you learn that you are not going to change the Philippines. The Philippines on the other hand may well change you. So now at 66 I’m David again, damn it. I can hear my mother calling me! Daaaviddd!

12 thoughts on “Dave’s Not Here. How the Philippines Changed My Name Back to David.”

  1. Well I never knew you hated your name! Ricky changed to Rick too but I still loved Ricky! I understand your frustration in the Philippines with the name issue but I would give anything to hear mom say “debbieeee” one more time. Haha!

  2. And then there is the never ending series of nicknames: Dodong, Titi, Bong, ChiChi, Kokoy on and on and then the names are common to many Filipinos and we are expected to know which Bong, Dodong or Titi is beung referred to at the time.

  3. I must admit I feel awkward calling you Dave, in the UK we had a prime minister called David Cameron and he’d say to the press call me Dave to give himself the common touch, he was after all a public schoolboy from Eaton.
    The press sniggered behind his back and he was from then on called “Call me Dave”.
    David is a lot better.

  4. Ha, All my life I’ve been called Randy or Ran, but in the Philippines, somehow I became Sir Randall (my birth name)… with out all the knighthood honors of course.

  5. Strange for a society where almost everybody goes by nicknames. They call themselves Dingdong or Bimbam, but when you ask for their real name it’s Maritess. 🙂 Also, Filipinos don’t know how to spell a name correctly. I know someone who goes through life as Alexes Necole, because neither her father, nor the clerk at the registry knew how to spell Alexis Nicole.

  6. Funny how we hang on to a name. My name, James was hardly ever used at home. It was Jimmy or Jim. There are millions of Jim’s I am a PE teacher and spent most of my life in the gymnasium so when I moved to Korea in 2010 I changed the spelling to Gym. In Korea most things are spelled phonetically. Busan is also Pusan. Daegu is also Taegu and so on. The Koreans had no problem with my name, it was the foreigners. I have not used Jim in 10 years but my “old” friends still spell it that way. I am just happy they still stay in touch.

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