As the sun sets somewhere between Romania and Yugoslavia, a peasant lays his scythe at the side of a grassy meadow and takes off his cap to wipe his sweaty brow. A group of traveling musicians arrived in the village the day before, and as the peasant tops the hill overlooking the small town, he sees the fiddler rosin his bow. Soon the music begins. Dancers join hands in a circle, and another forms within it, each one turning opposite the other. A bearded man be...