From a coffee bean to an opera singer -- continue

Now that I told you a little bit of the story behind Thai nicknames, I can continue with my given nickname.

At his first glance at me, my dad burst out his impression, "Her skin color is as dark as roasted coffee beans" beaming, he reached for me. My mom -who never told me how she actually felt about that comment - assumed that my dad wanted to name me กาแฟ because of my (dark) skin color (as dark as coffee bean)

กาแฟ = Gafaae = Coffee There! You have it! I proudly present my nickname - Gafaae or Coffee.

My dad explained to me when I was a lot older that what he said didn't have any negative connotation to it. (Right! Not to HIM) He was just amazed to see a cute little baby (me) with dark skin, big black eyes, jet black hair that was so thick and shiny, and looked cropped as if I was one of The Beatles (maybe because they were so popular at the time - Now you know to which generation I belong). Because he was so excited to see me - his first born, he didn't realize that the story behind my name would be told over and over by close, and not-so close relatives, and he felt sorry that I had to put up with it for all these years! Later on, I was grateful that he didn't say "She looks like The Beatles, let's name her John, Paul, George, and Ringo" Now, you try adding 'Nong' to those!

Ok, so I became NongGafaae to everyone. When I was very young, I didn't like the name, and often felt embarrased when I was asked. Most common comments that came right after would be, "Oh...you're so dark you must be Black Coffee" (Gafaae Dum กาแฟดำ). I would get very angry and started making faces at the person(s) who made this comment, which then brought on another comment, " Uh..oh, now you're angry. You need to add a lot of milk and sugar to the coffee" (Gafaae sai namtaan sai nom กาแฟใส่น้ำตาลใส่นม) I was only a little girl, raised in a culture that taught me to be respectful to adults, as a kid, I could only swallow my feelings. Now as an adult, a mother myself, I remind myself to carefully choose my words around children. Things that are not that big of a deal to us, might be a big deal for children.

My mother, we never spoke about it, but she later started to call me 'Faae' short for Gafaae - which, on its own has no meaning - but I have a feeling that it was her way of helping me out. I wasn't embarrassed anymore when was asked for a nickname since it was just 'Faae' - a meaningless word that was just cute-sounding (Please don't forget to add Nong to the front of the name - NongFaae - now, doesn't that sound much better - and super cute!!!) Little did I know, when I later came to The United States, this shortened nickname would have great effect on my personality into adulthood- specifically relating to my self-esteem and self-confidence.

Hmmm.... Should I change the title to "What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet"

Naaaah!! Let's continue with the story.

My parents' business had a lot to do with westerners and those of western descents The Thai word for westerners and the like is farang ฝรั่ง - the same word also means guava, a delicious fruit that I turn to whenever I feel that I need to go on a diet. How a westerner is related to the fruit I have yet to find out. My first encounter with the farangs (oh, yes, all ex pats in thailand adapted the word and have been using it as an English word) was when I was a little more than three years old (yes, I remember!!!) There were two , one Australian and one British men. I called them LoongNoel and LoongJack. Loong means 'older uncle' Again, with the Thai's respect system, we call people by relating their ages (by estimating how old we think they are - from the way they look) to our parents. Well, in this case, my parents asked me to call them Loong I didn't figure that out on my own! Anyway, my two farangs spent so much time with my parents and I felt close to them. (Also, every time they visited Thailand, LoongJack would bring me the cutest teddy bears!) They first attempted to call me Faae, but failed miserably. Every time my name would be pronounced differently as if they were referring to different persons. They giggled and gave up, and called me "Coffee" From then on, my farang nickname is Coffee, while my real one remains 'Faae'. You know what, I did not get a single 'coffee' comment from any of the farang Loong. Whether they thought that having 'Coffee' as a name was odd, I'd never find out since they never made any comment. Later observation taught me that the farangs' mannerism is quite different than the Thais' The Thai adults - those who love you and mean well will comment and criticize you (the younger ones) and give you unsolicited advice relentlessly. The farangs that are close to me will make a comment only when I ask for it. With just the right amount from both Thais and farangs, it would be perfect!

There was one thing, though, that I did, that stopped people from paying attention to my name (or anything else about me - "Oh, she's so dark, just like her dad" "Why is she so tall? She doesn't look 'Thai' at all") It's the singing. Every time I sang - which was all the time - they (the adults) literally stopped and listened. I was told that I started singing even before I could walk, that my singing voice was big, full, and warm - not the sound that anyone expected to come out of a child's mouth. If someone has proof for that it would be my LoongJack, with whom I lost touch since the early 80's! He had several recordings of my singing. I have a lot of memories about how I'd burst into songs anywhere and at any time. I'd remember being on a bus going into the city with my grandparents and I would start singing. I'd be walking in a department store and burst into song. I'm not talking about singing children's ditties, I was singing songs that were played on radio stations at the time. Thanks to my parents who always have the music in their hearts. They'd sing together, play the recordings, and took me to places where there were live performances. Also, the hired help around the house, who listened to their favorite radio station while doing chores. My parents told me about the time that they took me to a small concert, and before they knew it, I was up on stage (uninvited) and started to sing along with the performer. Yikes! I can't imagine how awful that was for the singer and the embarrassment I caused my parents! I don't remember how that ended, but do remember very well through my pre-school years that I was not to run up and take over the stage from the singer, or, the police would put my parents in jail. The thought of my parents being put away really scared me, and stopped me from trying to take the stage. Little it did to my desire to be there, singing away. It was so bad that it hurt - have you wished for something so badly that it hurts? That's the feeling. I believe that my parents sensed it. From way back then, even until now, the notion of singing and wanting to become a singer was not a usual career choice. My mother, especially, kept telling me over and over that it was ok to sing for relatives (especially when my mother was the one making the demand), but never ever sing in public - not on the stage, and never, ever sing for money!!!! Here's a Macauley Caulkin Home Alone moment for you. (((Gasp))) As it turned out, I did everything my mother told me not to do.

Well, a small coffee bean was going on a big journey!