To the left, some hundred meters away, a few hundreds of residents of Cetinje had gathered, mostly dressed in short trousers and flip-flops. Those in first rows wipe sweat from their brow with one hand, while in other they wave signs. "What are you celebrating, have you gone mad?", "Give us water, we're dying", "Montenegrin Lilic" [Lilic is a former figurehead president of Serbia, Milosevic's puppet]... From time to time, when a new lime arrives they start singing: "Welcome, welcome beautiful guests, are your horses weary?" Surrounded by police they explain that they live in misery. That's why they are protesting. Mirko Andric, retired, is almost shouting: "I have neither water nor electricity, and I worked for 33 years at Obod [large company, producing household items, such as washing machines and refrigerators]. Vujanovic destroyed Obod and is now coming to celebrate. He should be ashamed". A younger man, Sasa Sofranac, continued in the same vein: "He would have done better to give the money they spent today to Obod. They should publicly say how much money they spent today". Branko Martinovic, an old men with snow-white hair, quietly adds: "This is a huge shame for Cetinje. I don't know where they found courage to come to this destroyed city". The others agreed.
Then Prime Minister Milo Djukanovic arrived in front of the government residence. "Booooo, thief," the crowd shouted the moment Prime Minister's foot emerged from the limousine. Then again, all together "Booooo...", "Thieves, thieves". That very moment SDP leader Ranko Krivokapic, Milorad Drljevic and two more gentlemen tried to reach the reception the way that was not envisaged for participants, passing next to the protesters. The rage of the crowd found a target. "You want to pass this way, huh?" they shouted, while the stones flew. The slow walk of four officials soon turned into a sprint through the dust of Cetinje cobblestone streets. Ranko Krivokapic did not get away. Finally, holding his head, he reached the policemen. The four invited officials, escorted by policemen, entered the government residence. Once the heavy gate of the residence was closed, everything seemed different. The smell of olives, hazelnuts, French cognac and freshly planted palm trees, all suppressed the burden of dusty Cetinje streets.
The state TV directly broadcast the speech. Other journalists, drinking lukewarm water from plastic glasses, watched the president on a biggish TV set. Head of the protocol, Vinka Jovovic, in charge of controlling the movement of journalists, explained. "To the highest office, president of Montenegro," Filip Vujanovic spoke. Then he thanked Prime Minister Milo Djukanovic. In the end he figured out that his inauguration fell on the day "when 60 years ago, Montenegrin antifascist heroes, led by great Djilas and Savo Kovacevic, carried out the superhuman feat of breaking through the occupier's fascist siege". The TV set was turned off, so that the guests slowly started moving back outdoors. "There'll be everything," the cooks explained.
A chamber orchestra, waiters with bow ties, round tables covered by white tablecloths and decorated by bows in colors of the Yugoslav flag, light appetizers, still way too short English grass that caught a few high heels. Officials, as God would have it, dispersed into small groups, chatting. Filip Vujanovic, Milo Djukanovic and Svetozar Marovic smile in the center of the garden. A bit further, first ladies also display reserved smiles. The Belgrade trio - Ceda Jovanovic, Natasa Micic and Goran Svilanovic engaged in a serious conversation. Momir Mugosa and Zoran Zivkovic. Admirals and generals decorated by medals. Church hierarchs, minus mitropolit Mihajlo [of the Montenegrin Orthodox Church]. Tall Jevrem Brkovic in one of the corners. And so on, through the garden.
It was not certain whether the protocol would allow journalists to enter the garden. However, we interrupted the president in the middle of a pleasant chat. "First, I must express my satisfaction that many distinguished guests from Montenegro and Serbia and the diplomatic circle have responded to our invitation and came to this reception," president Vujanovic was beside himself. He hadn't seen the protesters. "I've heard about that protest, but I haven't seen them. Montenegro is a democratic state in which people express their opinion and feeling without any obstacles and bans. I think that no one in Cetinje could have recognized in my political career anything that would warrant a protest," he said and continued to enjoy his conversation with distinguished guests.
Vinka Jovovic was not satisfied. "What sort of behavior is that? One does not push microphone in the mouth of the president and diplomats! Then, you're surprised when we do not invite you," she tried to educate us. And honored us with the permission to attend the end of the cocktail.
Ranko Krivokapic stood next to the lady with whom he had arrived to the celebration. Once in a while, he would touch his brow with his hand. As he explained, the four of them wanted to walk through Cetinje. "I don't think anything about the incident. Those people are better than the leadership of the Liberal Alliance".
Ms. Beba Dzakovic also had an explanation for the dissatisfaction of the residents of Cetinje, which she offered while picking up a glass of juice from a table. "You know what, it's natural, if people live bad, do not have money, that they behave like that". "Of course, myself, at this reception, and someone who lives bad, cannot feel the same," she offered her analysis of the situation. In the end, everything became clear: "That is not our fault, especially not Fillip Vujanovic's. He is the embodiment of the honest and ethical Montenegro. We also live a little badly [sic]. After all, good health is all that matters!"
Mitropolit Amfilohije [of the Serbian Orthodox Church] agreed to a short chat. However, he hadn't noticed dissatisfied citizens. He also didn't feel like explaining his presence at the inauguration. "So young, and already engaged in politics". "Today, we celebrate, and we'll talk another time," was his cuddly repartee.
The reception was nearing its end. Guests were approaching the tables less frequently and organizers, rolling their eyes, indicated that they are to be left alone. Outside, drivers waited in line. In grey livery. They did not want to say who they were patiently waiting for, nor how long they were going to stay there. "Wow, they really taught us well," one of them could not restrain himself. The protesters had already dispersed. Two elderly men peeked through the gate of the residence. Through the gate, at first dusk, came out the distinguished officials. One after another, with police escort, limousines left. "Until the next time, five years from now," an elderly woman, leaning on the window of an old stone house, said, apparently for her own sake.