<font color='black' size='2' face='arial'><b style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: large;">The <i>Suona</i> wail</b><br>
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<div class="MsoNormal">I heard the sound before in the grasslands of <i>Nei Menggu </i>(Inner Mongolia) of
traditional music at one of the tourist stops foreigners gets trapped into. I was impressed by the volume of the sound, a
combination of a flute and a trumpet, an oboe with a brass spout.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">My neighbor across the street married her son off and their
wedding mixed the modern white-gown-suit-and-tie and a black sedan appropriate
for the young couple, with some traditional music, a <i>suona</i> solo that was impressive by both verve and virtuosity. I was not sure what was appropriate so I
discretely recorded the event from my solarium, losing much of the clarity since
I shot through a glass pane.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">The energetic girl's relatives in their countryside ways of instinctively
getting things done vs. the sophisticated (we've-got-someone-paid-to-do-that) nonchalance
of the boy's city slickers was evident when it was fireworks time. The crackers were laid on the street like two
hearts lanced by an arrow, which the pros made sure it only required one
lighting at one end. The girl's aunt and
father interfered with the set-up. When
it finally was time to light up the firecrackers (and roman candles), the
father and the aunt had to run twice into their section as the lighting cascade
kept getting interrupted.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">My teaching colleague at the University bawdily exclaimed on
occasions like this: "well, someone is getting screwed again!" Hardly.
Bedroom manners in China hold virginity before marriage to be of no
import on couples; 71 percent generally live together before the formal
"wedding" (unless one has a Bishop that still keeps his nose close to
the bride's tiara). The groom's parents tend
to worry more on getting a place for the couple to live in, and having enough
cash to pay for the wedding party. Most
often, the marriage certificate is a done deal signed and registered before the
wedding party. Connubial exertions are desserts,
not <i>hors d'oeuvre</i> and hardly the main
course!</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">The routine goes: the groom is driven to his bride's pick-up
place, gathers her into the black sedan, and then driven back to his home (where
they are welcomed by fireworks), presents the bride to his parents, who give
their blessings with no shortage of red envelopes stuffed with cash that the
girl's family will equal, if not better, at the wedding meal. The groom takes his bride back to the car and
a parade of black sedans (at least, eight, <i>ba,
</i>which also sounds like the word for "happiness"), hired for the
occasion ensues with lights flashing and horns blaring, on a circuitous route
to the party venue. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">The party entails a lot of speeches (the bride and groom's
words of gratitude to their parents are tearjerkers), and the red envelope
pours in earnest, customary from all guests.
When the bride and groom leave for their new abode, the bride carries
with her a big fat purse full of red envelopes and the count takes precedence
over any eye on concupiscence.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">Last week, came the blaring sound of <i>souna </i>again accompanied by electronic <i>sheng </i>and drums, five doors down the street. A makeshift elevated stage and a shed stood on
the playground with huge flower arrangements surrounded by artful
calligraphy. I grabbed my camera resolved
that my pictures would be from the ground level this time.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">Since I could not read any of the messages so I went with
the upbeat music that was loud enough to be heard 10 blocks away. There were somber looks on people's faces
that I obviously missed. I assumed that
since we were in a former rural area, the <i>suona
</i>was more frolic than solemn for the wedding.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">Had I paid closer attention, I would have noticed the colorful
paper flowers around the tent instead of fresh ones, and the stack of
"fake" paper money (the kind burned during the tomb-sweeping festival
in honor of ancestors). When the <i>suona </i>players alighted from the stage to
meet what was coming out of the building, I might have noticed the canopy of a
white blanket that four male adults held at the doorway. Weddings are wildly colored red!</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">I had my camera pointed and running when it dawned on me
that a wrapped corpse had just been laid into a casket inside the tent full of
Daoist symbols. Horror of horrors, I was
shooting a funeral! I was slow on the
draw. One lady put her hands in front of
my camera and said: <i>bu hao </i>(no good),
before I could turn it off.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">It was a tiny body and I asked a child if it was a boy or a
girl, and how old ze was. He answered:
"Boy. 10." I was sad and I did not understand the perky <i>suona </i>music for the occasion. It turned out to be my second faux pas. The child
referred to himself as a boy of 10 in his limited English. I later discovered that the corpse had
"suddenly and unexpectedly died at the ripe age of 73." Though perky, the <i>suona </i>wail still hit hard. I
am only 4-bends short behind that chronological journey.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">The <i>souna </i>wailed three
days, sunrise to sundown, before the body was delivered to the crematorium. I am tracking down a good <i>souna </i>wail for <i>moi</i>.</div>
<br>
<div style="clear:both"><i>j'aime la vie</i><br>
<a href="mailto:pinoypanda2031@aol.com">pinoypanda2031@aol.com</a><br>
<div><i>yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today. participate. In all, celebrate!</i></div>
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