Caoimhe? What?

While staying in county Tipperary in Ireland, I met a 9 year old girl with a gorgeous round face and brown curly hair. She wore a little purple striped t-shirt and skinny jeans, innocently dressing herself older to a fashion lost in countryside. When she told me her name, she proudly said, “Queeva.” That’s what I heard her say, phonetically, at least. When I asked her to spell it, having never heard the name before, I expected her to start with Q or C or K. But she carefully and thoughtfully started C…A…O…I…. hold on. What? Start again? Her name was not Queeva at all, or Kweever, or anything similar. She was proudly Caoimhe. What a beautiful name and what confusion and to her, what normality.