I name this family..

A few years ago, in a fit of boredom, I decided to trace my family ancestry. Now, a task that I was sure was going to take me weeks, months, years even. Wanting to do the job and my bloodline justice, I set about downloading all the tools one would need for such a formidable task. Family tree maker, Genealogical programs  etc.  All of one day was spent finding the relevant government offices that I would need to contact, then setting up an excel file to input all the data. Family documents that I could procure at my parents were recovered and stored in a file that I bought specially for the task, even scanning them all into a photo dossier onto my well worn laptop. After a week of studious preparation I was ready to begin the project to end all projects.  First point of contact was my rarely spoken to cousin. “ Oh I did all that last year” she said smugly! I will email you it all! which she duly did!..Job completed in ten minutes!

Nothing much to report on my ancestry. It seems that the vast majority knew that some future ancestor would want to trace them all. So conveniently and kindly all were married, lived and died in the same parish in rural Somerset. All mostly with the “occupation listed as “farmer” with the odd “brick maker” interspersed between them. The only true touching moment was finding a photo on the British War Graves website of a Great Uncle who had died in the Somme at the time of the Great War.

After she had came home from her work, I recalled all this to my wife, who for those that do not know is Turkish. Her response startled me “ Who gave you the surname West?”. Of course I had no idea. “ I guess it is because we are from the West of England” was my only explanation. “Yes – but someone somewhere must have given your family this name”.  She was right of course, alas that information was way beyond the vast amount of genealogical web sites online!. Over dinner we continued the discussion and she informed me that her own family surname “Demir” had been chosen by her Great-grandfather way back in 1934!

It seems incredulous in this mostly modern Turkey that I reside in, that less than eighty years before, the good citizens of Turkey continued their daily existence with no recognizable family name whatsoever.  In Ottoman times, everyone in Turkey was identified by titles, nicknames, birthplace, and parentage. The male of the population were mostly known as “the son of (Father’s name). My own wife’s Grandfather was known as “Şeker Yasin” (Sweet Yasin) solely for his contant eating of a sweet produced in his beautiful village of Catalzeytin situated in the Black sea region of Northern Turkey.

It is worth remembering though, Turkey's population at this time was only a fraction of what it is now. There were far fewer people, and the desire and possibility for  travel was far less. Thus making it a lot easier to identify them by context: "Mehmet the Shepherd from Trabzon," Ahmet the Butcher from Zeytinkoy," "One-legged Ali from…," etc. Everybody was a person, not a name in a ledger. Doesn’t seem quite so bad when you consider these days when every possible official office has a record of you!

Then along came Mustafa Kemal the first president of the Turkish Republic, who in 1934, and in all his wisdom decided that all the families must adopt a Western style surname that would identify them for generations to come. Think about that for a second!. Imagine that your family have to come to an agreement on a name that will identify you and your future offspring until the end of time. Me and my good wife couldn’t even agree on what to call a goldfish that we were recently given. So to me, the fish was called Beckham and to her he was called Altintop! Thankfully the poor fish didn’t have time to show signs of schizophrenic  confusion. In true goldfish fashion he died a week later!

The task given to the Turks, must go down as one of the greatest social historic experiences in recent years anywhere in the world. One can only imagine with wonder at the conversations around Turkish dinner tables as they discussed what chosen name to call themselves. The rules of which name you could choose though were not so clear cut. Surnames that bore any relation to foreign cultures, nations, tribes, and religions were strongly forbidden. Thus meaning some ethnic families such as Greeks and Armenians, who had surnames already that had lasted them for generations were obliged to change them forthwith!   If the new law was designed to exclude the multiplication of names, it can also be argued the law was also fostered to strengthen the sense of “Turkishness” amongst the populous.

Duly charged with the task in hand, the Turks,  furnished themselves with every conceivable name possible. Some chose the simple and obvious, some chose the grand and prestigious, some chose the outrageous and some chose the bizarre. Some didn’t even bother choosing! Attending the naming office when asked “Ok what do you name your family?” – some replied back in the most simplist of ways possible “mmm..I don’t really know …Birşey” (something)! So the name “something” was duly given! There were those that maybe in a fit of discontent at this new law registered their new name as “Adıvar” (have a name (already) )  Some didn’t even have to choose. Mustafa Kemal was adorned with the name, that was to make him known throughout the World, Ataturk – Father of the Turks.

There is one area of thought that didn’t cross Ataturk’s mind, one would imagine. That  is how the names left a social and historical stamp of that time for future historians .  The jobs for example that some chose as surnames. “Demercı” (Blacksmith), çoban (shepherd) all possible occupations at the time are to be found . The recent years prior to 1934 had seen a seemingly never ending situation of conflict within the borders of the now Turkish Republic. Mirroring this, names such as “Savaş” (war) came into bearing. Chosen probably by men who had had the inhuman experience branded into their psyche. The surname “conk”is replicated often – after Conk Tepe (Conk Hill) scene of some of the bloodiest battles during the Gallipoli (Canakkele)  conflict. Added to this is also some proudly used “Conker” – the end suffix “er” representing a soldier from Conk Hill. ..The list is truly endless!

There were some that used their surname as an object of covert snobbery. The Turkish writer and humourist Aziz Nesin, who at the age of twenty one personally experienced the Surname law noted in later years:

“when the surname law was passed which directed every Turk to select a last name, people's secret feelings of inferiority surfaced: Some of the world's stingiest became known as "Eliachik" (Openhanded), the greatest cowards named themselves "Yurekli" (Stoutheart), and many of the laziest took the name ''Chalishkan" (Industrious ) . One of our teachers chose the surname of "Cheviker" (Dextrous) when he could barely sign his name to a letter.”

Then of course there are simply the beautiful. One could take a lifetime and never finish the list of Turkish names that when translated are simply warm and charming. If I peruse my Facebook friends list for example, I find -  “Adıgüzel” (beautiful Island), Yilmaz (Undaunted), Guven (Trust), Mutlu (Happy),  Göloğlu (son of the lake), Erdem (Virtue), Yildirim (lightening), Uğurlu (Fortunate), etc etc !.

Turkish names really do come into their own beautiful self when combined with their literal first names. Some time ago , I was fortunate to have a wonderful student. Wonderful as a student and also wonderful purely for her name alone; Melek Gökçen. Beautiful as it is in Turkish, however when you understand that her first name Melek translates as “Angel” and her surname as “of the skies” put them together and…..? Truly delightful I think you will agree!. For me, simply to be able to translate Turkish names is reason enough to go running to the nearest Turkish class.

Try this if your Turkish is not up to scratch. When travelling around, look up!. There before you on the sides and balconies of small Turkish business such as lawyers and dentist you will see the names of the occupants displayed. Take a dictionary and check the meaning of the occupants name in English – it will keep you amused and bewitched for hours believe me!

However, back to where I started  - my own English ancestors. Six years ago, I applied to take Turkish citizenship. Completing one of the many stages and interviews, some would say interrogations, I was offered the opportunity to change my name to one more in tune with my new Turkish identity. I refused!. I refused simply in a sense of pride and as to hold dear the name some long lost ancestor in the dawn of time had bestowed on us. Looking back, I regret my proud decision so very much. Now that I understand the Turkish language more then I did in those days, I realize that I passed away a great chance to avail myself with such a meaningful and more fitting name that corresponds with my character or more accurately, the way I see my character!. If given the time over again, I would have bequeathed  the name upon myself “ Multu çiftçioğlu”. I will allow your good selves to translate!

The good people at the Turkish Citizenship Department though seemed to have ideas of their own when it came to keeping my name! A few months later a big brown official letter arrived proudly acknowledging that I had been accepted into the Brotherhood of Turks and my Kimlik (ID card), that all Turks must have on their persons at all time, was awaiting for me to take. Proudly I hurried along to the Citizenships office to take my kimlik and with sweaty impatient hands received it from the officiating man behind the iron grill. My wife kissed me happily with as I perused my ID. Then the word struck me “VEST”!…Michael VEST!. The fools, after all the forms I had carefully filled out, after all the interviews I had undertaken under duress, they had managed to misspell my own surname!

Immediately I returned to the office and the stern man behind the grill that I had left just minutes ago. “ My name – look you have it wrong, it’s WEST not VEST”. Smilingly he replied that in the absence of the letter “W” in the Turkish alphabet that any name with that letter within it is replaced with a “V”!.. I was stuck with it!

So, now I sit and ponder! Maybe, just maybe a few hundred years from now some long distant relative will sit down and undertake the task that I did in ten minutes. That of tracing his family roots!. I can see it now, filled with stories of how their family name VEST came from a long distant Englishman who came to the shores of Turkey many moons ago. “What does VEST mean though” he or she will wonder in Turkish as they grab their dictionary or whatever they will be using in those distant times. “V – very – vestible – vessel, agh here it is VEST” then they look and read

“ UK (US undershirt) a type of underwear, often with no sleeves, that covers the upper part of the body, worn for extra warmth:”

They then turn triumphantly to all their future Vest relations. “I have discovered that our great ancestor was an English immigrant, named after a an undergarment worn by men of that time” he or she will say proudly, and one likes to think with a tear in their eye in remembrance of little old me . Then they will finish “ No doubt he was not that intelligent to have been making underwear, probably poor, maybe little or no education in fact nobody of any real interest at all” !

Such a sobering thought!

Westy