Janice Campbell's Weblog: Localization & Netbeans

For the last five years, I've been talking classes in horticulture, landscape design, and construction at Foothill College. As a part of the program, I do volunteer work of different sorts. Today, I returned to C.A.R. after a long absence. It was therapeutic for me to work in the garden with a group of developmentally disabled adults.

My name is Soup, or Ketchup...

Working in a globalization business unit in a global company with global community, partners, suppliers, and customers, it's hard to know how to spell or pronounce many of the international names we come across. My name is no exception.

"Campbell" is a common surname in English-speaking countries, but when I have to give it verbally to someone, it can sound like "Kimble", "Camel", "Kemple", or any other number of phonetically-similar surnames. My usual reply when asked is "Campbell, like the soup." Most people recognize the association right away. When I lived in Venezuela, "Kam-bel, como la sopa" got instant recognition as it was a popular brand there at the time. But, when living in Brussels, I got "No, not like the soup, but like the Scotch Ale", which was a much more recognizable (and tasty) brand there.

A Russian friend of mine, who lived in Venezuela, could not associate my name with any branding at all. It seemed illogical to her and any similar food product would do. From that moment on, my name was "Ketchup". It was a packaged food, red like tomato soup, and with a commonly recognized surname like Heinz. I didn't quite understand her logic, but came to grow fond of her addressing me as "Hey, Ketchup, how was work today? Want to go for a coffee?" It's many years later; neither one of us lives in Venezuela, but in her emails, she still addresses me as "ketchup."

While in Venezuela, my name morphed into a "Carmen Yánez" in one situation. I often called a friend of mine at his office, and had to go through the receptionist-operator. Our conversation went something like this (translated to English):

ME: "Hi, may I please speak to Mr. Leon?"
OPERATOR: "May I tell him who is calling?"
ME: (in my best Hispanicized pronunciation of my name) "Sí, la Señora Yanez Kahmbel."
OPERATOR: "What? La Señora Yánez?"
ME: "No, La Señora Kahmbel, como la sopa."
OPERATOR: "What about the soup? What's your name? Mrs. Carmen?"
ME: "No, my name is KAMP-BELL, like the SOUP! Don't you know?"
OPERATOR: "Just tell me your name so I can understand it, Sra. Yánez! I'll connect you now."

Back and forth we went for at least 15 minutes each time I called until I WAS FORCED to concede that my name was indeed Mrs. Carmen (popular name in Spanish-speaking countries) Yánez (a popular surname in Venezuela).

Today I am blogging on the Globalization group blog page.