KOSOVO:There must have been 12 of them, as well as at least one large stereo system, inside and on top of the little van that wobbled drunkenly towards the centre of Pristina, writes Daniel McLaughlinin Pristina.
Six people were jammed into the cabin, and four more young Kosovan faces grinned inside the cargo bay, whose doors swung open to let their scarlet-and-black Albanian flags billow out into the bright sunshine, where most of their 2 million compatriots seemed to be celebrating the birth of a new state.
Two more revellers somehow waved banners while clinging to the roof of the old van, which finally merged with countless other cars, trucks, buses and bicycles that flew flags and pumped out music to greet the province's hard-won freedom from Belgrade.
Under cold blue skies, US, British, EU and Nato flags also fluttered above crowds that hailed the West for bombing Serb forces out of Kosovo in 1999, and for supporting its bid for sovereignty despite threats and dire warnings from Belgrade and Moscow.
One group of young men carried a huge stars-and-stripes above their heads and chanted "USA! USA!" as they marched down Pristina's main boulevard.
Meanwhile, Kosovo's fledgling philharmonic orchestra tuned up in preparation to play Beethoven's Ode to Joy - the so-called EU anthem - at the climax of a gala concert last night.
After making the official declaration of independence in parliament, Kosovo's leaders signed their names on a giant multi-coloured sculpture spelling out the word "newborn", on which the public were invited to write their own birthday messages for their country.
"Freedom is here at last, I'm so thankful," Rexhep (19) shouted over the noise of the crowd.
"I have always wanted to go abroad and study but maybe now I will stay here. Maybe now it is worth staying and planning for a future in Kosovo."
About 60 per cent of Kosovo's population are under 30, so yesterday's long-awaited party was bound to be raucous, particularly with bars and cafes giving out free "independence wine", succulent hunks of grilled meat and slices of a 1,500kg chocolate-and-vanilla birthday cake baked in the shape of Kosovo.
"You're never full of independence cake," said its creator, Flora Namani. "You can't get enough."
Kosovo's leaders feared that Albanian triumphalism could spark clashes with scared and angry Serbs, and made repeated calls for a calm, dignified occasion without the "happy shooting" that is common in a Balkan region that is still awash with weapons.
Inevitably, the rattle of gunfire did mingle with the fizz and crackle of fireworks across 90 per cent Albanian Kosovo, while most Serbs living in small enclaves dotted around the new state remained indoors as Nato peacekeepers patrolled their streets.
The ethnically divided town of Mitrovica was once more the flashpoint: two grenades were thrown at UN and EU buildings in the Serb-dominated northern half of the town, just across the Ibar river from the wildly celebrating Albanian community.
No major damage or serious injuries were reported, but the incident highlighted the resentment felt towards the Pristina government and the notion of independence by the 100,000 or so Serbs who still live in a region they see as the cradle of their nation. "The Albanians can celebrate all they want," said Djordje Jovanovic in Mitrovica. "But this stillborn baby of theirs will never be an independent country as long as we Serbs are here and alive."