The Suona wail I heard the sound before in the grasslands of Nei Menggu (Inner Mongolia) oftraditional music at one of the tourist stops foreigners gets trapped into. I was impressed by the volume of the sound, acombination of a flute and a trumpet, an oboe with a brass spout. My neighbor across the street married her son off and theirwedding mixed the modern white-gown-suit-and-tie and a black sedan appropriatefor the young couple, with some traditional music, a suona solo that was impressive by both verve and virtuosity. I was not sure what was appropriate so Idiscretely recorded the event from my solarium, losing much of the clarity sinceI shot through a glass pane. The energetic girl's relatives in their countryside ways of instinctivelygetting things done vs. the sophisticated (we've-got-someone-paid-to-do-that) nonchalanceof the boy's city slickers was evident when it was fireworks time. The crackers were laid on the street like twohearts lanced by an arrow, which the pros made sure it only required onelighting at one end. The girl's aunt andfather interfered with the set-up. Whenit finally was time to light up the firecrackers (and roman candles), thefather and the aunt had to run twice into their section as the lighting cascadekept getting interrupted. My teaching colleague at the University bawdily exclaimed onoccasions like this: "well, someone is getting screwed again!" Hardly. Bedroom manners in China hold virginity before marriage to be of noimport on couples; 71 percent generally live together before the formal"wedding" (unless one has a Bishop that still keeps his nose close tothe bride's tiara). The groom's parents tendto worry more on getting a place for the couple to live in, and having enoughcash to pay for the wedding party. Mostoften, the marriage certificate is a done deal signed and registered before thewedding party. Connubial exertions are desserts,not hors d'oeuvre and hardly the maincourse! The routine goes: the groom is driven to his bride's pick-upplace, gathers her into the black sedan, and then driven back to his home (wherethey are welcomed by fireworks), presents the bride to his parents, who givetheir blessings with no shortage of red envelopes stuffed with cash that thegirl's family will equal, if not better, at the wedding meal. The groom takes his bride back to the car anda parade of black sedans (at least, eight, ba,which also sounds like the word for "happiness"), hired for theoccasion ensues with lights flashing and horns blaring, on a circuitous routeto the party venue. The party entails a lot of speeches (the bride and groom'swords of gratitude to their parents are tearjerkers), and the red envelopepours in earnest, customary from all guests. When the bride and groom leave for their new abode, the bride carrieswith her a big fat purse full of red envelopes and the count takes precedenceover any eye on concupiscence. Last week, came the blaring sound of souna again accompanied by electronic sheng and drums, five doors down the street. A makeshift elevated stage and a shed stood onthe playground with huge flower arrangements surrounded by artfulcalligraphy. I grabbed my camera resolvedthat my pictures would be from the ground level this time. Since I could not read any of the messages so I went withthe upbeat music that was loud enough to be heard 10 blocks away. There were somber looks on people's facesthat I obviously missed. I assumed thatsince we were in a former rural area, the suonawas more frolic than solemn for the wedding. Had I paid closer attention, I would have noticed the colorfulpaper flowers around the tent instead of fresh ones, and the stack of"fake" paper money (the kind burned during the tomb-sweeping festivalin honor of ancestors). When the suona players alighted from the stage tomeet what was coming out of the building, I might have noticed the canopy of awhite blanket that four male adults held at the doorway. Weddings are wildly colored red! I had my camera pointed and running when it dawned on methat a wrapped corpse had just been laid into a casket inside the tent full ofDaoist symbols. Horror of horrors, I wasshooting a funeral! I was slow on thedraw. One lady put her hands in front ofmy camera and said: bu hao (no good),before I could turn it off. It was a tiny body and I asked a child if it was a boy or agirl, and how old ze was. He answered:"Boy. 10." I was sad and I did not understand the perky suona music for the occasion. It turned out to be my second faux pas. The childreferred 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 suona wail still hit hard. Iam only 4-bends short behind that chronological journey. The souna wailed threedays, sunrise to sundown, before the body was delivered to the crematorium. I am tracking down a good souna wail for moi. j'aime la vie pinoypanda2031@aol.com yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today. participate. In all, celebrate!