Water on the Knee

“Hey, don’t worry that the river washed away the bridge. I know where the river is shallow, so we’ll cross it there.” He said...
As I was losing my balance on the slippery rocks of the river bed, and getting swept by the current, neck deep in the icy cold waters of Lim river, I couldn’t believe that I got myself into that situation because I wanted to visit a... a... Well, for the lack of a better English word, let’s call it a pub. Or an inn... Or better kafana, which is what they call such places in the Balkans. This particular one was called “Koljeno”. Meaning “The knee”. Yes - knee... And who wouldn’t want to go drinking at a place named after a body part, even if it means wading through the mountain river in the middle of the night...
We clambered up the river bank, and walked for another mile or so. And then we came to a large family house, whose ground floor was the only lighted place around, which was all the sign it needed. Inside, the space was plain – surely, no interior designer ever had a say in setting it up. But what it lacked in aesthetics, it made up in atmosphere.
There was a band in one corner. “Diamonds”, it said on the painted bed sheet stretched on the wall behind them. Scantily clad girl was shrieking folk songs into the microphone. Most of the people were crowded around tables whose plaid tablecloths were barely visible from dozens of beer bottles. Others were on their feet, dancing folk dances in a long chain that snaked around the tables. The faces were red, eyes blurry. Shirts unbuttoned, bare chests gleaming with sweat. Clearly moved by songs’ emotions and the sounds of the accordion, people were shouting the lyrics, out of phase with the singer. Which bothered no one, as she was out of tune, anyway... The temperature was rising – in the air above the tables, as well as in people’s bodies, mine included. A guy pulled out a gun, went outside and shot into the night sky. As on the cue, everyone screamed from joy and started singing louder, dancing faster, drinking more. A woman detached herself from the dancing snake and continued solo on the table, kicking bottles with her feet.
I was looking around me, thinking that must be how the infernal party looks like. I glanced at the floor, at the puddle of water that was dripping all night from my drenched clothes. I knew that somewhere in the near future I will have to cross the river again and hike up the mountain to my home. But the only thought I had was: that was worth it.