After enduring untold hardships, my late father finally arrived in Nanyang. At that time, when Chinese people entered colonial countries, they were required to register their personal details with customs or immigration authorities. However, due to language barriers, cultural differences, and the varying pronunciations of regional dialects, many Chinese names were re-recorded during the registration process, often resulting in significant discrepancies from their original Chinese names.
My late father’s original name was Wang Tingbao (Wang Tim Bao). The official responsible for registration at the time did not understand Chinese and could only record his name based on its Chaoshan dialect pronunciation. Thus, “Wang Tingbao” was ultimately registered as “Wang Yabao” (Ong Ah Poh). From then on, the original surname Wang gradually evolved into “Ong” in its English spelling, and this was carried on as his descendants were born and grew up.
This phenomenon was not an isolated case, but a common historical occurrence within the Nanyang Chinese community from the late nineteenth century to the mid-twentieth century. At that time, most Chinese immigrants from places like Guangdong, Fujian, and Hainan declared their names using their hometown dialects. Given the lack of a unified Hanyu Pinyin system, compounded by the different recording methods adopted by various colonial governments, the same Chinese surname often appeared with multiple English spellings.
For example, for the surname “Wang” (王), some registered it as Wang, while others were recorded as Ong, Ongk, or Heng. The surname “Hu” (胡) might appear as Hu, Oh, Foo, or Aw. Even siblings within the same family could end up with different English surname spellings due to different birthplaces, different registering officials, or variations in dialect pronunciation. Although they shared the same bloodline and ancestors, they possessed different surnames on official documents.
Over time, these spellings were gradually accepted by later generations and became part of their family identity. Many second and third-generation Chinese born in Nanyang grew up using these English names and were completely accustomed to them. However, when they returned to mainland China to seek their roots and ancestry, they often encountered many difficulties due to these surname translation issues. Some families had to conduct extensive verification from multiple sources before they could confirm their true ancestral origins and kinship ties.
In fact, this alteration of names is a microcosm of overseas Chinese adapting to the environment of their times. After leaving their homeland, they not only had to face unfamiliar living environments, but also had to learn new languages, adapt to new systems, and integrate into new societies. Countless pioneers continuously adjusted themselves amidst cultural shocks and practical challenges, striving to find space for survival and development.
The development of human society is inherently a process of constant adaptation to the environment. Much like all living things in nature, only those who adapt to their surroundings can survive and multiply. Although overseas Chinese were far from their motherland, they relied on their diligence, fortitude, and wisdom to take root and grow in foreign lands, gradually establishing their own careers and families.
The evolution of Wang and Ong was shaped against this very historical backdrop. Departing from Jieyang, Guangdong, and crossing the South China Sea to Nanyang, the English spelling of the surname may have changed, but the bloodline never did. Whether it is Wang or Ong, tracing back to the source, both originate from the same Wang ancestor.
More importantly, while a surname might change with the times, the transmission of culture has never been broken. The dialects, customs, culinary culture, and Gongfu tea traditions of the Chaoshan region in Guangdong, as well as the family values of respecting ancestors and honouring kinship, are still passed down from generation to generation among the descendants of the Wang family overseas. During festivals, ancestral worship, and family gatherings, the elders still converse in the Chaoshan dialect, and the traditional cakes, braised goose, fish rice, and Gongfu tea on the dining table still retain the flavour of their hometown.
Therefore, Wang-Ong represents more than just a change in surname, it is an immigrant history spanning across oceans and eras. It witnesses the journey of generations of Chinese struggling to survive in foreign lands, and it also reflects the developmental trajectory of Chinese culture taking root overseas.
To further understand the land where my ancestors grew up, I have returned to my hometown of Jieyang three times on root-seeking journeys, visiting ancestral halls, ancient villages, and the places where my forebears lived. During this time, I also followed the southward route of my predecessors, taking a boat from the Han River to Hong Kong, attempting to experience the state of mind my ancestors had when they left home and set sail.
However, the passage of decades or even centuries has long altered many landscapes. The familiar village roads of the past have turned into modern streets, and the old docks and ferry crossings mostly no longer exist. Facing the enduring mountains and rivers of my homeland, yet finding that the people and things have long changed, one cannot help but feel a deep sense of profound emotion.
As the saying goes:
The old country’s mountains and rivers remain,
While the hometown accent lingers in dreams.
Returning to seek ancient traces,
Tears flow before a word is spoken.
I dedicate this text to all the Chinese pioneers who crossed the oceans, and to all the descendants who still remember their ancestral roots. No matter how the surname evolves, and no matter where we are, our bloodlines remain connected, and our roots endure forever. The source of the Wang family and the soul of Chaoshan will stretch on endlessly through the inheritance of generation after generation.