Not only men, there’s many Latin American women in that situation.
Inventing names for my family tree, my great-grandparents Jane and Peter married against her parents’ wishes; she got disinherited and disowned for it (turns out those 19th century novels are more realistic than one may think). When Peter, a doctor, died during an epidemic leaving Jane with a baby and a toddler, she moved in with some distant relatives. My grandmother Anne grew up having access to “proper” schooling but also knowing she was indebted to these relatives, as her mother’s closer ones wouldn’t even talk to them. Eventually Anne married my grandfather, Paul; they had five children, of which my dad was the third. When he started preschool, there was another boy in his class with the same unusual lastname! The first in Dad’s case, the second for this boy.
He remarked upon this unusual occurrence when asked how his first day in school had gone, and suddenly the only adult who still behaved like she was made of flesh was an increasingly-confused Anne: everybody else had frozen. The other boy disappeared shortly thereafter…
The boy was my dad’s cousin, by a sister of his father’s who’d married against her parents’ wishes and been disinherited and disowned (in the 1940s!). These relatives emigrated to Venezuela; the next generation (that is, my father’s cousins), from Venezuela to the US. Eventually, one of my second-cousins met a nice guy in college and, after getting over the shock of him having an even worse set of Basque lastnames (ours has more words, his has more syllables), married him. They spent their honeymoon in Spain, seeing the land of their ancestors - and at one point, they opened the phone book for our province and looked for my family’s lastname.
Phonebook listings are usually of the form
Firstlastname Secondlastname, Firstname
Firstlastname, Widow of (my grandma Anne)
was the first listing since “no second lastname” goes before any second lastname: she was the first person they called, and was delighted to meet them and call the whole tribe over, which is when Dad finally found out who the boy had been and why he’d so mysteriously disappeared.
I was living in Miami at the time - so were the parents of this second-cousin (others were in California, and the second-cousin and her husband were moving to NH). As I told my parents when they gave me the contact information, “I moved across an ocean to get away from the family and I have relatives 25 minutes away? Bloody relatives, can’t get rid of them!”