Chapter Fourteen
Mr. Ambassador And Beautiful Tamara
Niksic beer with the ambassador
The smiling chubby gentleman in pants and a green-red checked shirt with salt-and-pepper hair was an Ambassador from one of the European Union countries. He spoke Serbian quite well. In fact, his ability to construct complex sentences without an error, along with a perfect accent, was fascinating. Apart from that, his physiognomy was similar to that of Balkan men so someone could at first glance think that he was a Serb.
However, one detail gave him away. He didn’t swear. And when he did, it always sounded forced and as if curses were prompted by something, as if swearing had to have a motive. I tried to explain to him that in Serbian speech swearing is a drop of water in a flowing river.
“You don’t n
