Aitor, Maitane, Anartz and Haizea, celebrating my 100th post.

Today is my 100th post! I’ve been updating for a year an a half, have about four consistent readers (2 parents, 1 sister, 1 random—God love ’em), and can honestly say that writing has become my biggest passion here in Bilbao. In 2014 my goal is to grow A Thing for Wor(l)ds (I have some fun series in mind!), venture into the intimidating world of freelance writing, and continue to pull inspiration from this unique and beautiful pocket of Spain er, The Autonomous Region of Basque Country.

So while I’m busy hitting milestones in the blogging world, I’m also knocking them out of the park at school. Four months after starting my job, I can finally say with only mild hesitation that I can name all 300 of my students at Zorroza High School. Four months, you cry??? Before you knock me for memorizing at a snail’s pace, allow me to provide some insight into names in Euskera (Basque).

In Basque Country they do things differently. They eat pintxos instead of tapas; they receive gifts from Olentzero instead of Santa Claus; and they call their sons Txema instead of Jose. Names in Euskera aren’t your basic Pablos or Marias, the ones you grew up roleplaying in your high school Spanish book—those are child’s play. Instead, I have spent the last four months in Bilbao desperately reviewing my student rosters and sweating bullets when I recount names at the start of each class. I’ve created mnemonic devices to remember the pronunciation of “Ingartzi,” and where the accent falls in “Aingeru”; I’ve been laughed at for saying “AitanE” instead of “AitanA,” and “Mikel” instead of “Mikel”; I’ve blindly called on an Iker and just hoped there was one sitting nearby. And what sin did I commit in a past life to get a Naia, Naiara, Ainara, Anere, and Enara all in the same class?

Here’s a little game to illustrate what I’m talking about, and to culture you all in Basque ways. Guess which names in Euskera are masculine and which ones are feminine. (Answers below.) If you dare, you can also try reading them all in one breath.

Aitziber, Iñaki, Igarki, Iñigo, Alazne, Zuriñe, Imanol, Aixa, Garbiñe, Gaizka, Ziortza, Gotzon, Irati, Oihane, Josebe, Ingartzi, Uxue, Orkatz, Ekaitz, Unai.

Wasn’t that fun? Can you see why it’s taken me so long?

There’s one Jenny in my school, and I owe her big time. She’s probably developed acute stress disorder from being called on so much in English class. If all the other kids’ names were as easy to remember, I’d spread the love a bit. In the meantime, thanks to such specialized attention, Jenny is fast becoming a pro at third-person present conjugation.

So there you have it, names in Euskera in a nutshell. You thought the toughest part of my job was getting my students to be quiet. But really, it’s remembering what name to yell before I demand that he shut up.

Answers (m-masculine, f-feminine): f, m, m, m, f, f, m, f, f, m, f, m, f, f, f, m, f, m, m, m.

About The Author

Jenny

Jenny Marshall studied Language, Culture, and Society at the University of California Santa Barbara, and now teaches English in Spain. Here she writes about the intersection of language and culture, and lives a life translated by travel.