How are baby monkeys named?

Unlike other primate field sites, Lomas has no rigid naming system.  The first researcher to lay eyes on a baby monkey gets to name it, preferably as soon as possible, to make data collection easier. That said, names do often follow established patterns: Flakes group boasts a large number of monkeys with medieval names, like Excalibur, Guinevere, Mead, Lute, Jester, and Minstrel. These naming patterns can extend over generations, or lead to chains of free association that produce strange lineages like Cookie, mother of Monster, mother of Frankenstein.  Often, a particular field crew will develop a naming theme: some members of a recent crew loved Harry Potter, and so the forest is now dotted with baby Harrys, Nymphadoras, and Ollivanders.

The opportunity to name a baby can provoke months of anticipation, planning, and (usually friendly) competition among members of the crew.  For example, there was a huge fight over what to name Osa’s baby.  Osa’s name means bear in Spanish, and a large fantasy contingent among the field crew was determined that the baby should be called Iorek after the bear king in the Golden Compass series.  The discoverer of the baby, however, wanted to name it Yogi.  After much coalitionary action, cajoling, and bargaining, Yogi was finally agreed upon.

Another difficulty is the baby’s gender.  Baby capuchins hardly leave their mother’s backs for the first 3 months of life, and both girls and boys have what looks like a penis, which will shrink as the girls grow older.  Researchers have to name the baby before they know whether it is a boy or a girl.  This has resulted in quite a number of incongruous name-monkey pairings: a reclusive oddball female named Thor, hulking alpha males named Badoodie and Moth, and a beautiful and playful female named Voldemort.

Moth the glutton. Photo: S. Perry

Mild-mannered Thor and her baby Valhalla. Photo: S. Perry

Playful little Voldemort. Photo: S. Perry