Dear Folks, I don't believe I've told you this particular Surinam experience that I had on July 6, 1972. vee End of Mourning Ceremony at night I was staying in a barely adequate hotel in the small town of Albina at the mouth of the Marowjine River. I had had a full day and before I went to bed I took a mild sleeping pill that my doctor had prescribed for me in case the trip got to be too exciting or scary for me. I didn't have any water in my room so I took out my bottle of rum and washed the pill down with it. I had just gotten to bed (around midnight?) when I heard someone throwing pebbles against my second floor window. I went to the window and down on the street was Jytte. She called up to me to ask me if I wanted to go to an End of Mourning Ceremony right that minute. Sure I did! I did think a moment about my taking one sleeping pill with a swallow of rum, but I didn't think there was any hazard of my passing out. And there hadn't been. I hurried and got dressed, grabbed my tape recorder and my purse and I was out the door where Jytte was waiting. The ceremony was being held at a house on the edge of Albina, and Jytte and I walked there. When we arrived there were quite a number of people there and we were invited to sit down where a large circle of people had gathered. As usual I had my tape recorder on my lap underneath my purse so that it wouldn't be noticed. I believe that the person who had died was the wife of Esto. The ceremony was being held at his house. Sounds of many people talking and laughing and sporadic singing and drumming. At first the drums sounded ordinary until there was a much louder drum that started in. I looked in that direction and saw that the young man was using a large empty oil drum as his personal drum. He was hitting the side of it with a stick in one hand while using the palm of his other hand on the top of it to beat out a lusty rhythm. There was no formality to the drumming and singing; they were just being spontaneous. It was obvious that all of them were enjoying themselves. The drumming and singing went on and on. I couldn't imagine how the drummers kept it up for so long at a time. I recall that every once in awhile several of the women started dancing around in a circle. Everyone was dressed in ordinary street clothes. At one point the drumming and singing stopped for a moment and a lot of loud talking was going on. Then it seems that from nowhere came the beautiful voice of a woman singing loudly and with clarity. She sang no words only a haunting melody that sounded African in origin. She then followed with words to a melody (if you could call it a melody). When she finished she was applauded with clapping of hands and hoots of appreciation. I could see her as she sang and she looked like she was only about sixteen years old. After a moment, the men began to sing and while they were singing she would sing her part and then the men would start singing again. She sang some more and a man sang a few words on his own. The drums started in earnest again. The pounding of the drums overpowered the singing that continued. At one point during the ceremony, someone poured out Black Cat rum in a tin cup and it was passed from one person to the next in the circle that Jytte and I were sitting in. When Jytte had taken a sip from the community cup, she passed it on to me. Oh great! I had been handed a community tin cup with an unknown rum in it and was expected to also take a sip out of it. I took only a moment and decided I better join in with the rest of them for fear that I would offend them. After a small sip, I passed the cup on to the next person in the circle. When I finally got back to my hotel room (hours later), I went to sleep with the sounds of the drums and singing in my head.