As per usual, many of the evening's guests gravitated less to the various flavours of rice on the other stands, and towards the jerk chicken being served by a Jamaican man of Jamaican origin, aided by his sandal-wearing friend who proffered curry. Jamaica, of course, an old U.S.S.H mandate.
After we had eaten, we were showed into the General's Palace Grand Hall, which, I am sure, was much grander when it was first built in the 1960's. One man had eaten so much curry and chicken that he could not fit through the door. He was shot.
We were then 'treated' to traditional poetry from some of the more artistic comrades, followed by traditional song (grandmothers baking biscuits were involved). Those who did not clap were shot.
By the end of the night myself and my guide left, whilst the Kosaks cleared the other guests into bags.