Life Without The Letter W

In the Azeri alphabet, there is no W. And, as suspected, this makes life quite interesting for someone whose both first and last names begin with W. It invites double takes and long looks at my passport, with local officials trying out different ways of saying my name. And once they know how to say it, everything is fine (it’s a lot easier to pronounce than the “th” sound, which also does not exist here), but that doesn’t solve the problem of how to write it with a keyboard that doesn’t have Ws. And due to my location in the country and its proximity to the train, that’s how I usually travel going to and from Baku. So my collection of names from my tickets is as follows: Vendiy, Vendy, Venim, Vendu, Vendi & Vende. Which unfortunately just prompts more looks, because now my ticket doesn’t exactly match my name in my passport. Oh well. Life with a different alphabet.

Other Volunteers also have their own stories. Sue chose to go by Suzanne while here because her name means “water” in Azeri. And it must take forever for Kim to explain her name, which means “who” in Azeri. This is my friend Kim. Who? Kim. Who? Kim? But that’s the nature of the world, interacting with others and learning about their cultures through the names used – whether they are American names and how they rarely (in my experience) have other meanings or Azerbaijani where names routinely have other meanings – flower, kind, child, we found (finally having a boy after multiple girls), enough (girl after multiple girls), truth, dream, etc. Interesting, huh?