Idiots abroad: The awkward moment when you get no platformed at a karaoke night.

The past couple of days have been excellent. I've got to know the participants at the conference a lot better, and I've come to terms with the food a bit more. I've accepted that I will be eating fish everyday, that I will never like dill again after this week, and that there is a spectre haunting Ukraine, that spectre is mayonnaise.

Yesterday Ben and I led the day in full, which was daunting but a lot of fun.  I haven't actually told many people what I'm doing in Ukraine, which perhaps I should do as I'm not just here on a jaunt.  I am here on behalf of the Labour Party, through the Westminster Foundation for Democracy, leading a conference in conjunction with the Alfred Mozer Foundation in The Netherlands.  The 'Winter Academy' is for young people from Social Democratic parties in the Eastern Europe and South Caucuses.  The participants are all young activists, like ourselves, and as much as we are here to lead the conference, I am definitely here to learn from their experiences.  The workshops we have run, and presentations we have given, are aimed at giving the participants skills and ideas to take back with them to their own countries, although I feel like I have learnt more from them than they have learnt from me.

Anyway, having led the entire day we were exhausted, but a trip to a Ukrainian karaoke bar was on the cards. There's no keeping me away from karaoke nights in England, let alone abroad where I can spectacularly embarrass myself without fear. What happens in Kiev stays in Kiev, right?  To take part in the karaoke you had to pay 50 UAH, which is about £3.50, so obviously I was going to get my money's worth.  First of all we sang John Lennon's 'Imagine' - not my choice and I didn't really sing it.  Then we did 'Summer Nights' as a table effort. I sang Adele's 'Hometown Glory', and then I did a duet of Glee's 'Don't Stop Believing' with Matthew and 'Angels' with Anahit.  I should probably mention that the karaoke master actually tried to stop us singing anymore songs because she thought we were trying to hijack the night with, what they liked to call, 'foreign songs'. I've never been so outraged in all my life 1. there is nothing remotely foreign about Blazin' Squad, Roll Deep and Tinie Tempah - all of which were available to sing, and 2. we were the best people in the joint!

During the time I have been writing this update on my new Ukrainian life, we had a fire drill. I made a greater attempt to save my Mac than my life - I've definitely become a 'Mac wanker' in a week; whereby I've developed an irrational fear of PCs, and am afraid that if I touch the sub-standard technology I will spontaneously combust.  I was panicking about the fact that the hotel doesn't have fire doors and, as Matthew rightly pointed out, "of course they don't, they don't even have Diet Coke!"

I am pleased to confirm that I still haven't spoken a word of Ukrainian yet. I have actually learnt 'thank-you' in Russian - the language everyone here speaks - it's 'spasiba', but I've set a standard for being an ignorant Brit, so I'd like to maintain that.

P.s. This makes me want to kill myself. They also call Harry Potter 'Jarry Potter' here, pronounced 'Gary'. He is at a prestigious magical institution, he does not support West Ham and work in a garage in Walford!