Twenty Questions. I haven’t played that game in a long time…not voluntarily at least. A few days ago I came across someone who seemed determined to engage me in a round of this. The topic? My name.
The inquisitor started off with a rapid-fire round of basic questions I’ve heard a million times including:
“How do you spell it?”
S-I-R-I-A
“What does it mean?”
Sun-bright, Glowing (finally all of those ‘Siria is very bright’ remarks growing up finally make sense) On a side note, I didn’t know the meaning of my name for most of my life and doubt my parents did when they christened me with this. The name could’ve meant “your daughter is easy” for all they knew (FYI-I’m not).
Lesson to be learned: Parents, look up the meaning of a name before selecting it.
“Are you Syrian?”
I think I am basically soliciting this question, as normally when I introduce myself and people look bewildered at my name I add “Siria like the country but spelled differently.”
However, no I am not Syrian. Not that I know of. Perhaps somewhere along the way … did the Spanish/Portuguese/Mexicans go to battle with Syria somewhere in history? If so, then maybe.
The previous question is usually followed by either “Are you Middle Eastern?” or “Are you Persian?”
No, see the previous answer. Although, I now know Siria is of Spanish and Persian origin.
“How did your parents come up with that?”
A friend of my mom’s in high school had this name and she thought it was different and liked it.
After the interrogation is over they usually have a closing line of something to the effect of “That’s pretty, it suits you.” To which I usually reply “Thanks, it’s different.”
Slight variations of this back and forth are common occurrences in my life, happening probably at least once a week due to the high volume of new people I constantly meet.
As a child, I hated the uniqueness of my name for the attention it would bring me as I was super-shy. My middle name wasn’t much better to go by (here’s a clue it means “Victory-Bringer”…yeah I know I am Siria – the “Sun-Bright/Glowing Victory Bringer”).
Why couldn’t I be an Amy/Jennifer/Susan/Megan/Sarah like the other little girls? Even my brother got a normal name. Who cares if there were multiples of each at school? At least no one mispronounced their names (Sierra, Serina, Seria, Sariah, Suri) and most importantly they never had to special order their personalized souvenir keychains/coffee mugs/pens and wait 4-8 weeks for delivery. Nope they could have them same day.
I’m not really complaining as I’ve sort of grown into my name and can’t imagine having another (I was informed as a child by my parents that my name was to be Vanessa, but they changed their minds). Also, it seems that the older I get the less of an anomaly it is as people with different, interesting names surround me more and more these days.
My answers to the questions posed to me regarding my name have long since become automated (eventually I may just start directing them to this column entry or print out copies of it to keep handy) and don’t really annoy me ever as I am fine with people’s curiosity. I can’t help but wonder how the other Sirias of this world (I’ve only met one in my lifetime) address the same questions.
