What's in a name change?

What's in a name change?

When a prominent government official looks to be guilty, a string of abandoned identities does little to diminish that look

SOCIAL & LIFESTYLE
What's in  a name change?

It's been an intense week for Thailand's deputy agriculture minister, whose dubious past as a drug runner has been revealed in an exposé in The Sydney Morning Herald, written by one Michael Ruffles.

The story is quite an eye-opener, though my favourite part was the headline, "FROM SINISTER TO MINISTER". I wish I had a way with words like that.

The deputy minister is going by the name Thammanat Prompow for the moment. It's the fourth name he has used in his life, and it is this aspect of the story we will concentrate on.

Thammanat has been denying the story. He says it's fabricated. This is a dubious allegation by the deputy minister, since Ruffles gleaned his information from court records.

This did not stop Thammanat from suggesting that it was all a political ­hatchet job, that Ruffles was really just trying to smear his name -- or, as they say in Thai, discredit.

"We have to check which network he belongs to," he said last Tuesday during a press conference.

Well, there will be no casting aspersions on Ruffles' character and getting away with it around here! You see, prior to his career as a journalist at The Sydney Morning Herald, Ruffles held down an equally glamorous job -- he was my editor. Of this very column.

It's true, dear reader. For three years up until 2016, Michael and I were writer and editor. Each week I sent him my column, and he would cast a critical eye over its contents. I only bring this up to vouch for the fact that he is an exceptional journalist. For the minister to suggest he is part of some local anti-government local network is stretching it a little.

Having said all that, we need to address this name situation.

Court reports show that Thammanat was jailed in Sydney in 1993 after the court found him guilty of conspiracy to import heroin. He served a four-year jail sentence before being deported.

This is in direct contradiction to his version of events. He says he only did eight months in prison for the crime of being in the same room as drug dealers, and if you ask him one more time about this he'll sue you.

There was one fact in the case that aroused Western social media. Back when he was jailed, Thammanat went by the name of Manat Bophlom. Prior to that, by his own admission he had been known as Yutthaphum Bophlom. Upon being deported, he changed his name to Patchara Prompow. Later, he changed it to Thammanat Prompow.

"What kind of innocent man changes his name?" posted one sceptic this week, echoing a point of view shared by many non-Thais.

The answer is: a lot. Changing one's name in this country is not about guilt.

Thailand is a land entrenched in karma, spiritualism, the winds of fortune and kinetic energy from the other world. One of my new-age friends claimed she could "feel the sizzling energy" the moment her flight touched down on Thai soil, although I always thought that may have been due to faulty electrical wiring on her economy-class armrests.

There are all sorts of ways to ward off bad luck here. One way is to change your name.

When disaster strikes, you make your way to the temple, where you ask your favourite monk to think up a more auspicious name for you.

This is a complicated affair, which is why your local monk, as opposed to your local dry cleaner, undertakes the process. There are certain consonants unlucky for people born on a Friday, for instance. Having just two syllables as a first name may not bode good fortune for someone born on a Wednesday. The monk asks for your date and time of birth and gets to work. He draws squiggles and diagrams and circles, placing symbols within them, until finally the monk pronounces the name most suitable and auspicious for you.

(I suspect the Lord Buddha is rolling in his Nirvana resting cloud upon ob­serving such practices. Honestly … the country goes crazy over a creative interpretation of Buddha Ultraman, but turns a blind eye to such services in the name of Buddhism?)

The new name is often very long, spelled unusually, or sounds like something out of the Ramayana. It's a bit like John Smith changing his name to Sebastian Grosvenor-Halliburt.

I had two Thai friends, neither of whom knew each other, who possessed the same name. Their names were Somchai.

Now Somchai is a little like John Smith in Thailand. If you stood in the middle of Siam Square with a loudspeaker and shouted out "Somchai!", I guarantee you, one quarter of the males in the vicinity would look up from their smartphones.

My two Somchai friends shared a common trait -- they both had runs of bad luck. The first one got one of his two girlfriends pregnant, causing him to drop out of university and spend the next five years driving a cab for 19 hours a day trying to make ends meet.

"Woe is me," was all Somchai could say when I saw him towards the end of that half-decade. "My life is nothing but ill fortune."

Your life is nothing but ill choices, I would reply, starting with the inability to spend 40 baht on a condom back in his philandering days. He disappeared for a year, and when he came back, he had a new name:

Thewathanet.

Thair … wa … tha … net.

What kind of name was that? Thewa means "the gods" and the last part is associated with wealth. Common old Somchai had just transformed into Wealthy God.

At least he kept his surname. The other Somchai, who lives in upper Isan not far from Laos, was having a hard time as well. At 40 he was still single; his job at a local government hospital was on the line; and his 78-year-old mother fell ill, as elderly parents are wont to do.

All this was too much for him. He went to see his local monk.

"I've changed my name," said Somchai. "My new name is Nopthanadol." Panadol what?

He also changed his surname. That's what being a 40-year-old virgin can do to your senses.

My old friend, the artist formerly known as Somchai Jaikla, was now Nopthanadol Nithisapsinworapat. Just saying that name makes my FitBit reach its daily target of 10,000 steps.

Naturally, in Thailand there is a good way around this custom to ensure others don't get too confused. Both Somchais have a nickname, and it stayed the same. In other words, you don't have to memorise the new name, unless of course you're married to the person (not Somchai No.2's situation) or you are writing a column defending the practice, as I am.

And I am defending the practice. Some of us chant Hail Marys while holding wooden beads. Others of us hit our heads against a wailing wall. Even others prostrate themselves in a specific direction at specific times. If Thais wish to change their names for peace of mind or to ward off bad luck, then so be it. As foreign a practice as that may sound, it is no more or less ludicrous than anything you or I may do.

Did the lives of my two ex-Somchais improve? Not really. As for the case against Thammanat, the fact that he changed his name does not, on its own, point to any evidence of guilt.

The fact that he may have changed it three or four times? That may be a horse of a different karmic colour.

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