Say My Name.

It's perfectly alright that there are still lingering cultural stresses, even six months into being here.   A part of me say 'haven't I gotten over this already?'   Not completely.  And not perfectly, either. 

I went to go pay my phone/internet bill the other day and the lady behind the counter asked me in a mutter whose name the bill was under.  Course, I didn't catch what she said at first.  Eventually I did, and I started guessing my name, AC's name, then another person's name until I was clear out of names.  Each time I blurted out a name I was met with a 'bu dui!'  Literal translation 'Wrong!  Wrong again!  Still wrong!'  What happened to the 'customer is always right?'

Today I went to the bank.  Another American friend told me that the only place that makes her cry around here is going to the bank.  I wasn't near that today (thank goodness), but I had to stand up in defense of my name.  Apparently, the passport page with my middle name confuses them.  I told them I don't go by my middle name and they told me I didn't know my name.  I retorted with a 'I think I know my name.'  Finally after a few giggles on both sides, they processed the transaction.

Since both these incidents have to do with names, let me bring up the issue regarding the pronunciation of my name around these parts.  Locals know me as 'Sure-reese,' and doggone it, I'd really like my name pronounced correctly for once.  The 'sher' is pronounced like the pinyin 'shi.'.  I don't even care what tone you use.  Aiyo! (my new favorite means of expressing anguish).