HISTORICAL FACTS: Names and their origins

As in most Latin American cultures, people in Mexico have two surnames. The first is the father’s, and the second is the mother’s family name. Therefore, when you meet someone named Juan Bermudez Rodriguez, you know his father’s last name is Bermudez, and his mother came from a family named Rodriguez. When addressing him, if you do not wish to use both surnames, you would say Sr. Bermudez, not Sr. Rodriguez.

This part is easy, but it gets a bit complicated when he marries and the children arrive. So let us assume that he marries a woman named Luisa Salazar Fernandez. In most cases she will become known as Luisa Bermudez Salazar—keeping her family name at the end. If they have a boy whom they name Eduardo, he will become Eduardo Bermudez Salazar forever—single or married. But if they have another child, a girl named Susana, she will be known as Susana Bermudez Salazar until she marries. Let us say she marries Lorenzo Camacho Garcia; that means her husband’s paternal family name is Camacho. She then becomes Susana Camacho Bermudez. The maternal last name disappears, but her father’s last name remains as part of her identity. Yes, there are some variables, such as a woman keeping her name without any change when she marries, but in most cases this is the rule.

The origin of any surname can go back centuries. Perhaps one of the earliest practices was naming someone for the place he was from. There could have been several men named Juan, but one lived by the river, another on the mountain, and a third in the valley. So they would each be Juan Rivera, Juan del Monte, and Juan del Valle. Naming someone by the specific town he came from were common as well all over the world—Leonardo da Vinci (from the Italian town of Vinci); or many Spaniards like Lope de Vega or Vasco Nunez de Balboa, each of them from the town that comes at the end of their name—in effect their surname.

Another practice found all over the world is the relation of some surnames to an occupation. The same is true with Spanish names. Abad—abbot, Panadero—bread baker, Herrero—iron worker, or Pastor—shepherd.

A last name could be the first name of an ancestor as in Rodriguez, which means “child of Rodrigo,” or González, “child of Gonzalo.” This appears to be common universally as we see in O’Henry—child of Henry in Ireland, or Johnson—child of John, with the suffix “son” giving that meaning. In German and Scandinavian countries the suffix “sen” has that role, as in Johansen. The construct of a last name, using an ancestor’s first name, followed by a suffix signifying “son of” is common all over the world.

In Mexican towns with native ancestry, such as the Purépecha, or Tarascan, who reside near Lake Pátzcuaro, it is common to find people who have two Spanish first names as their surnames. Miguel Sebastian Felipe, for example carries his father’s name Sebastian and the first name of the mother’s father—Felipe. Or Jose Antonio Carlos, whose given name is Jose and the last two (what seem like) first names refer to the parents of father and mother. Confused? Me too!

A teacher in Juventino Rosas (about an hour away from San Miguel), noted that many of his students had last names related to flora and fauna—Coyote, Conejo (rabbit), Vaca (cow), Mezquite (mesquite), Pirul (pepper tree), or Palma (palm). According to him, the reason is that the ancestors of these children adopted a Spanish name for the plant or animal with which they were associated in their indigenous name. Natives often identified in their own tongue with objects from nature. This is evident in the names of Aztec emperors: Acamapichtli (a bunch of reeds), Huitzilihuitl (hummingbird feathers), Itzcoatl (obsidian serpent), and Moctezuma Ilhuicamina (the airy sky archer). One can imagine the change from one language to another and the attempt to retain the original identity. Here are illustrations from ancient codices of the named emperors, in the order they were mentioned.

Another transformation in naming followed after the conquest by Spain. Many indigenous chiefs, and people in general changed their native names to the surname of a Spanish soldier, or official they admired or feared. Thus we have the Otomí chief Conin becoming Don Hernando de Tapia, (founder of Querétaro); and a warrior from Tula who chose the name of a Spanish conqueror, Nicolás de San Luis Montañez as his identity.

In Mexico and other Catholic countries, first names frequently correspond to the saint’s day on which the child is born. A boy born on June 13, would very likely be named Antonio in honor of St. Anthony of Padua, who was born on that date in 1231. The applies to those born on July 31, feast day of St. Ignatius, or September 29, which is the feast day of the Archangel St. Michael. And in each of those cases a girl could carry the feminine version of the name—Antonia, Ignacia, or Miguela.

These are all explanations for formal naming, but often the most important part of one’s identity in Mexico comes from an apodo—a nickname. Often a particular name already comes with its common nickname. Conventionally, Jose, for instance turns to Pepe in almost all Spanish-speaking countries. The reason behind it is quite colorful. Pepe, phonetically represents the letter “p” said twice in Spanish. But why a double “p” for Jose—Joseph? Joseph, the husband of Mary became the adoptive father of Jesus. The Latin term for “assumed father” is Pater Putativus, hence the double P. Another nickname derived from a religious background is what is commonly used for Francisco (Francis): Paco. Here again it’s the pronunciation of two letters that represent a specific idea. St. Francis of Assisi was known as Pater Comunitatis, which is Latin means “Father of the Community.” Therefore Paco is the combination of the first two letters of that sobriquet. The female equivalents for these are Pepita and Paquita.

Other “official” nicknames for given names are “Nacho” (or Nacha for a girl) which corresponds to Ignacio (or Ignacia). There is Chente for Vicente, Concha for Concepcion, and Licha for Alicia. Double names have their nickname equivalents as well, as in Juan Jose, Juanjo; Maria Teresa, Mayte; Maria Elena: Malena; and Maria Isabel: Maribel. These are traditional nickname equivalents for particular names; some with colorful explanations as we found in Pepe and Paco, others have simply stuck over time without a particular motive. One common reason—true of many nicknames around the world—has to do with the way a child would pronounce his or her own name, as Lalo for Eduardo, or Quique for Enrique.

Another way in which people acquire nicknames, has to do with a physical trait or mannerism, often present from childhood. Examples are flaco: skinny; panzon, someone with a big belly; rengo: someone with a limp, or guero: someone with fair skin or hair. Such monikers have been historically common all over Latin America; and often they have negative connotations that fortunately seem to be on their way out.

Finally it is interesting to note that some major historical figures in Mexico are better known by their nicknames than by their actual given names. A famous insurgent who fought in the War of Independence was Albino Garcia Ramos, known for his abilities as a horseman. He lost the use of his left arm after a fall from a horse, and has gone down in Mexican history as “Manco” Garcia, where manco means someone without an arm.

And we have several examples of distinguished historical figures from San Miguel who are best remembered by their nicknames. Juan Jose Rodriguez Amaro is commonly known as “el Pipila,” a nickname he acquired because he had a pockmarked face, and was dubbed pipila: turkey, the plumage of which they claimed his face resembled.

A well-known singer from the 1930s to the 1950s, Pedro Vargas (below left), became known by the nickname “El samurai” because his eyes had an Asiatic slant. And then there is one of our most distinguished historical figures from the 19th century—Ignacio Ramirez—“El Nigromante.” (below right)

In this case, he himself chose the nom de plume which means “the necromancer.” Born in San Miguel de Allende, he became a major political figure in Mexico.

Perhaps now you will have a better understanding of what your Mexican neighbor’s name signifies.