I thought I'd expand on that idea and take it worldwide, especially given the presence of so many Canadians and Australians on this forum. What I'm looking for are local names that either are pronounced in weird ways, are just plain weird, have strange spellings, or have some interesting origin (with perhaps a story behind them).
As an inhabitant of Michigan, I live in a State rich in such names. A lot of our place names are Chippewa (or Ojibwe, depending on which term you prefer), including the State's name itself, which, according to Wikipedia, "is a French alteration of the Ojibwe word mishigama, meaning 'large water' or 'large lake'". Of course, that quote explains the second reason why our place names are so bizarre here (and, with it, the ultimate cause of Rachel's faux pas [which we should probably pronounce "fox paw", just to get into the spirit of things]): The French voyageurs who came through here and set up a combination of trading posts and missions (and sometimes both at once) rendered all of those Chippewa names into French, which American settlers arriving in the late 18th and early 19th Century following the Northwest Territory Act of 1787 proceeded to Anglicize, often with hysterical results.
Thus, "Detroit" is pronounced Dee-TROYT (or occasionally DEE-troyt in African-American circles), rather than "Deh-TWAH"; the little town where I went to high school (Grand Blanc) is pronounced "Grand Blank", rather than "Grahnd Blahnck" (Anglophones, you have to hold your nose to say that properly); and "Mackinac", as Rachel discovered when Michiganians twittered and texted her in outrage, is pronounced "MACK-ih-naw" (which is actually pretty close to the French pronunciation - go figure!).
But the fun only begins there. Like so many other places, we have our share of weird names that have no basis in "he said, she said", but rather are just plain weird.
- Ypsilanti: Folks on the phone with me never get this right (it's pronounced "IP-sih-lan-tee"). Often, people living in the area make the mistake of thinking this is just another Chippewa name gone wrong, but it's not.
The original name of the place was "Woodruff's Grove" (as incorporated in 1823), but in 1829 the residents changed the name to "Ypsilanti" in honor of Demetrius Ypsilanti, a hero in the Greek War of Independence (1821-1832). Apparently, the struggle of the Greek people for their independence from the Ottomans fired the imagination of Americans, and a number of towns were named after Field Marshal Ypsilanti; between the end of active military operations in 1829 and his death in 1832, he visited a number of them, living of his reputation (so to speak). In many cases, that led to the locals changing their community names back. As far as I can tell, only the former Woodruff's Grove kept the name (there's an Ypsilanti Township in Nouth Dakota, but its incorporation date suggests that it was named after the town in Michigan, rather than the dissipate Greek war hero). - Hell: Accounts differ as to how this unincorporated township got its name. The most likely is the one in which George Reeves, the man who helped establish the settlement (he built both a sawmill and a distillery there, which undoubtedly made him the richest man in town), told people when asked what the new community should be called: "You can name it Hell, for all I care!" FWIW, Hell Creek (which runs through the town) is named after the community, and not the other way around.
- Paradise: Lots of places have this name; I mention it only so that you all know that the answer to the local joke, "How far is it from Hell to Paradise?" is "About 350 miles" (342.88 miles if you must be precise, an estimated drive of 5 hours, 27 minutes, according to Yahoo Maps). Notably, Paradise is in the Upper Peninsula, as opposed to the Lower Peninsula. Yoopers (residents of the U.P.) would claim this is no accident.
- Kalamazoo: Pronounced exactly the way it looks. The town was originally named Bronson (BOHHHHH-ring!!!!), but was changed in 1836 (or 1837, depending on whether you're talking about the village (later city) or township; the county got its name independently, back in 1830. All were named after the river, and therein lies the puzzle. There's a whole friggin' Wikipedia article on the "Etymology of Kalamazoo", which ought to tell you that nobody really knows for sure what the name means, beyond "something in Potawatomi." The fact that there are basically less than 10 living people who speak Potawatomi (all elderly) and that the survivors speak two different dialects of the language (Northern and Southern) doesn't help matters any.
Another part of the problem appears to be that the "Indian name" for the river used by the white settlers is their take on a Chippewa rendering of the original Potawatomi name, so the exact original name is questionable. It probably means something like "boiling pot" or "smoking water", a name that comes from the fact that the river is prone to a sort of wispy morning fog (as are the surrounding low areas). Having driven through the area scores of times between 3-6 AM (en route to and from Chicago), I can attest to the eerie beauty of the phenomenon (the interstate highway there is generally high enough not to experience the fog, but the surrounding countryside gets covered by it).
Kalamazoo is a very popular name for use by artists and screenwriters; they seem to like to use it a lot because of the way it sounds. Of course, it could all be Glenn Miller's fault, too.
