There is no one word to describe a battlefield or the aftermath.

For the most part, all you find are traces of civilian lives, the lives that they left behind. Dusty photo frames, unfinished meals, a child's shoe.

During the November 9 battle for Haifa Street in Baghdad, all that was left behind in the luxury apartments U.S. and Iraqi troops had taken position in were these small clues of the life that once was Haifa Street.

Outside the firefight was still raging, an explosion shook the building, and someone yelled "mortar!" I was staring at a little yellow sequined flip flop. It was probably around hour five of what would end up being a 10-hour gun battle ­ and I was already exhausted. And so when I saw the dirty and dusty couch in the poorly lit entrance to one of these apartments and the unit that I was with paused for a moment - I sank into it. And then I saw the flip flop ­ discarded and dusty. Who was she? I pictured her as being slender, maybe eight years old, slightly curly hair in pigtails. Where did she go? Was she still alive? I could imagine her laughter echoing in the hallway and I wondered if it ever would again.

Back out on patrol the day after the second battle for Haifa in as many weeks - a quick embed facilitated by the 1-23 Stryker Battalion that we had covered the fighting with - we were finally able to snatch brief conversations with some of the civilians that endured life on Haifa street.

There's were stories of killing at the hands of the "others" (the insurgents,) fear of "down there" (where most of the fighting was centralized,) and raw anger at just about everything.

On the southern tip of Haifa life looked almost normal. Kids played soccer in front of the Stryker vehicles as if a major battle had not just raged for eight hours, as if it might not just flare up again.

"Down there" - an unnerving ghost town. Shops shut, laundry still fluttering from deserted apartments. Just the boots and chatter of Iraqi and U.S. forces and the knowledge that something probably still lurks in these buildings.

In the slums behind the luxury apartment complexes that line Haifa, not far from where a precision guided missile had flattened a building that insurgent machine gunners had holed up in, two women were walking around.

What were they thinking walking around what was once alley-to-alley fighting? They were in fact fuming. At the helplessness of their situation, at life that forced them to endure mortars falling in their backyard and snipers, at visions of dogs gnawing at dead bodies. They were stuck with nowhere else to go and no one to help them.

The background noise of Baghdad isn't quite like the background noise of, say, New York's traffic, or living under an airport flight path.

Here, the "noise" is gunfire, occasional mortars, IED's and car bombs.

Over the past few weeks back in Iraq for the eighth time, the car bomb booms have been audible almost daily. You begin to be able to identify roughly how far away they are ("Wow, that was only maybe two miles away") and in what district.

Gunfire becomes recognizable in terms of both distance and type of firearm - AK 47s have a pretty distinctive sound, and when you hear the "crack" then you know it's pretty close. "Cracks" are common.

This past week or so we've also had a grandstand view of the Haifa Street battles a mile from our Bureau (although not quite as grandstand as CNN's Arwa Damon, who was with U.S. troops at the time.)

There was the familiar thudding the heavy caliber .50 caliber machine gun, the "whomp-bang" of mortars (or "whoosh" if they're outgoing,) and the louder, more distinct bang of a hellfire missile fired from an Apache helicopter swooping overhead.

When it comes to car bombs, our windows will routinely rattle, although today was the first time I've felt rather unnerved by one.

We were sitting at our computers in our Bureau when there was a terrific explosion and the windows more than rattled - I was convinced they were going to fall in on my back.

The building shook - really shook. The exterior kitchen door blew open and all of us - all "used" to bangs and booms - instinctively ducked.

It was a suicide car bomber (targeting an Iraqi Army patrol) who detonated his vehicle not more than 500 yards from our bureau.

Two people died, more than a dozen were wounded.

We soon returned to "normal," but it was the closest bomb to our building I can recall. A wake up of sorts.

And once again a reminder that ordinary Iraqis are facing this carnage every day. We keep a white board with daily death tolls, differentiating between bomb victims and the ubiquitous "bodies dumped in the streets, most showing signs of torture." 45 here, 30 (a good day) there, one day this month there were 71.

It's a macabre running total, but we all are intensely aware because of our daily contact with local folk that these are people. Husbands, fathers, sons, daughters, mothers.

I sometimes wonder if folks back home see them that way. It's easy to see a scoreboard rather than a face.

-- From Michael Holmes, CNN Anchor

My first big mistake today was I trusted that however close Hezbollah wants to push Lebanon towards the brink of crisis to bring down Prime Minister Fuad Siniora’s government, they would know when to dial back tension and head off an irreversible slide to civil war. That was my first mistake.

In the morning I headed to the office leaving my flak jacket in the hotel feeling secure that without sanction, violence would not escalate and I wouldn’t need it. The next mistake would come later.

The day could not have felt more normal. It began in Hezbollah’s heartland, Beirut’s southern suburbs. Traffic was a little slow but otherwise life amid the ruins of last summer's 34-day war with Israel was humming along. I met a man who has excellent insights in to Hezbollah and a mother who is still waiting for her house in the South Lebanon to be rebuilt. From both I felt their intense dislike for the current government. This anger was much stronger than last time I was here several months ago.

Back in the office later I was writing their story, that’s when the call came to head out to the gun battle at Beirut’s Arab University. I was about to compound my first mistake and make my second. With check points being thrown up it would have cost too much time to grab my flak jacket from the hotel, I decided I should go immediately to the trouble. There was no time to lose. Oh and the second error, I left my satellite phone behind. I had two cell phones, what could go wrong?

The situation was intense, Lebanese army soldiers were firing automatic burst after automatic burst of gunfire in to the air to clear rival, pro and anti-government rock throwers off the streets. I didn’t feel in immediate danger, the shots were in the air, indeed I had good cover from a high brick wall, but I knew at that moment my faith Lebanon’s multi-factional leaders have this country under control was wrong. Violence had flared, who knows why. The nation, particularly some volatile youths, are on a hair trigger to tip the country so far in to violence no leaders can not dial it back. I should have taken my flak jacket because the brakes that hold Lebanon back from spontaneous conflict are off. I should have taken my satellite phone too because the cellular networks were either jammed by callers or jammed by officials to thwart a wider and more coordinated violence.

At the end of the day I’m realizing the hobbled choreography that keeps Beirut one stumble away from a slippery path to its old civil war is losing its footing. Leaders seem to be reaching the limits of their powers of control. However the day looks tomorrow you can be sure I’ll have my flak jacket and much more when I leave the hotel.

More fool me. I should have known better.

It’s funny what makes a connection. I was sure that most people wouldn’t give a damn about the plight of a small 6 year old girl in far off Cambodia. The news media is so saturated with misery and pain, why would this story make any impact? But I think Srey’s vulnerability and the sheer horror of what she has endured has sent a collective shiver down the spines of parents across the net. As I write this, some 900,000 of you have logged on to read about her story. Some of you have contacted me personally to ask if you can help. One of you actually wants to adopt her. It’s comforting to think people out there care. So what can you do to help? Well Somaly’s charity needs money. Here's her Web site.

The children she is caring for sleep in a large barn – cramped together without even separate bedrooms. They have plenty of land and need money to extend this shelter to enable them to take in other children. But the problems in Cambodia are huge. The UN estimates there could be 55,000 prostitutes and Unicef thinks that perhaps 35 % are underage. That’s almost 20,000 children. Think about it for a second. Cambodia needs more women like Somaly. It needs an army of them. But there are plenty of NGOs there that are doing a great job: Unicef, Save the Children, ECPAT etc. Give them your money, give them your time, lobby your politicians, take an interest and keep caring.

(Watch my report on how one woman has saved dozens of children from brothels.)

I rarely dream. Well ... I probably do dream, but I rarely remember if I do. So I was quite surprised Tuesday morning when I woke up in a panic.

I'm here in the beautiful Swiss mountain resort of Davos to produce a panel at the World Economic Forum that will later air on CNN. The program is called "CNN Connects: Our Networked World," and is hosted by Becky Anderson. A great deal of time and effort has gone into preparing the panel, which is bringing together some of the top computer and Internet executives in the world.

So back to my dream:

I arrived back home in Atlanta and realized I had forgotten to buy gifts for my husband and two young children. I was devastated. My week in Davos had simply flown by and I never had a moment -- not one single moment -- to shop for gifts. And then ... in my dream ... I suddenly received an e-mail from my boss. It went like this:

"Lisa, WHERE ARE YOU? We're starting rehearsals now and the show airs tomorrow, we need you here now!"

As the message sunk in, I realized I had left Davos five days too early!

And that's when I woke up, relieved to find myself still in cold and snowy Switzerland.

Oh, and in case you're wondering ... I stopped by a small souvenir shop Tuesday afternoon!

-- From Lisa Cohen, Supervising Producer

Climate change has turned into "the issue" here in Davos. For me, the jury is still out on who is setting the agenda around here -- is it WEF's list of sub-themes in the extremely detailed Davos program, or is it the media obsession about chosen topics which is creating the buzz? It's probably chicken and egg and I'm not sure it much matters as long as the delegates have something to talk about and the journos have something to report. The lack of snow at the beginning of the week gave us the perfect excuse to explain that climate change would be grabbing much of the attention. As if we had a clear example on our very own doorstep. But let me tell you, the snow has well and truly arrived and temperatures are dropping fast.

One of the low points last year, when I was producing the evening shows, was the question from London about the "smoke" coming out of Charles and Becky's mouths. "It's condensation" I explained wearily. "Can we get rid of it?" they asked. "Well here's the thing ... it's minus 25 degrees, I can barely speak and neither can the anchors, I've forgotten what it's like to be able to feel my hands and feet and our heaters have broken down. So er ... the condensation right now is the least of my worries and frankly, out of my control." Those memories came flooding back today as I was back at the same liveshot position (raised on a platform this time and thus, comfortingly named "the gallows,") freezing my socks off and wondering when I could head back in for a much needed cup of tea. It's very glamorous, this TV stuff. I look like a Michelin Man in a million layers, my extremeties are blue from cold and all I can dream of is a hot drink and hot bath. Not likely while we've airtime to fill --- dream on!

After one day in a new location, you've begun to find your way around; after two and a half, when everyone else has only just arrived, you swan around as though you own the place. So it's particularly embarrassing to be turned away in the queues to get into the conference centre because your pass is 'invalid'. Suddenly the aggressive black boots worn by the swathes of security guards look slightly more sinister. Plus you get scornful looks from others in the queue, as though you're trying to pull a fast one or have something dangerous in your back-pocket.

That is unfortunately the hierarchy of Davos and as media attendees we are expected to know our place. Thus whilst the other delegates enjoy a welcome lunch two floors above us, we TV low-life are tucked away in our basement workspace wondering how to feed ourselves. The staple is the pizzeria just above the conference centre, where everything is drenched in oil and, as of any ski resort - reassuringly expensive. Otherwise at the live shot position where I stand banging my hands together until midnight, it's a diet of walnuts and Mozartkugeln.

Our truck engineer, the astonishing Edwin, is the most cheerful soul in Davos. From 5am until midnight he is a bundle of enthusiasm, across every technicality and generous with warming hugs and huge smiles. Let him be an example to us all when the shows get more and more busy and tempers, as I have been warned, become more and more frayed. I am a Davos first-timer, and those who've darkened its doors before tell me that I will without a doubt cry at some point during the week. This I consider a challenge and so far wonder why I ever would, though after two nights at the live shot position I can understand you might cry from cold. Even that Edwin has an answer before. This year he's rigged up a heated platform upon which the anchors and the guests can stand - the ultimate in live-shot luxury. And rest assured, that's where you'll find me every second we're not on air.

Posted by Diana Magnay, CNN International Business Editor

So it’s all happening. We’ve queued to shake hands with the World Economic Forum’s Executive Chairman Klaus Schwab and toasted this year’s annual meeting at its traditional "Welcome Cocktail." The four-and-a-half-day frenzy that is Davos 2007 is under way.

Above all, it can’t be too long before one of my anchor colleagues asks me on air "So, Charles, what’s the buzz at Davos?"

I have a big problem with this question. Yes, I always blather out some kind of answer, but the fact is, there isn’t generally any one single issue or viewpoint that dominates the annual meeting here.

A lot of people seem to think Davos is some kind of parliament where everyone meets in one huge room and plots the advancement of capitalism. It isn’t. Everyone goes to the gala soiree on the Saturday night, but beyond that there are literally hundreds of official sessions, some drawing big crowds, others just a few devoted souls.

And that’s not even mentioning the scores of rival attractions organised by big companies for their clients and friends, or the one-on-one meetings where business leaders thrash out big deals in the rarefied Alpine atmosphere. Everyone does different things when they get to Davos, and there are as many subjects of conversations as participants.

Unfortunately, even if there really were one thing that all 2,400 of them talked about, I’d probably never get to hear about it. This time around, CNN’s workspace is down in the concrete bunker below the Davos congress centre. Every Swiss town has one, designed to shelter its population from any nuclear attack and its aftermath, sealed off from the word above by impressively thick doors with chunky steel catches. Not the best place for journalists: if you’re trying to keep your ear to the ground, it’s best not to be several storeys below ground.

That said, there’ve been two recent WEF annual meetings where people have talked a lot about one thing. One was the one held – exceptionally – in New York City a few months after 9/11. I wasn’t there, but I’d think the challenge of terrorism and its relationship with Islam was front, left and center. And the second one was a year later, back in Davos: The United States was poised to go to war in Iraq and Secretary of State Colin Powell came here to explain why – above all, to sceptical Europeans.

And this year? Global warming looked like it had a chance – especially when the CNN team we all arrived in Switzerland to find it unseasonably warm and devoid of snow, except right up the mountains. A snowless Davos would have been just the kind of striking anecdotal evidence that might wake up Big Business.

But just before the participants arrived in their gaz-guzzling limousines and helicopters, along came a big belt of colder weather and clouds full of snow and – guess what? – Davos is now as white as ever it was, so perhaps we can get back to our cocoon and leave the task of rolling back climate change to our grandchildren. Talking about the weather is so unoriginal anyway.

So what am I going to say when somebody pops that awkward question about the talk of the Forum? Maybe this time I’ll just have to tell the truth.

The wreck of the Napoli and the hordes of people scavenging its cargo from the beaches of Devon have been big news this week. Channel-hopping in my hotel room here in Davos I found the familiar sight of Branscombe Beach popping up on late-night television news bulletins from all round Europe.

I say “familiar” because it’s a spot I know and love, and I am dismayed to find it pitched into the headlines for very distressing reasons. Branscombe beach is a little over an hour’s drive from my home in South-West England, and my wife and I first discovered it one hot afternoon in August 2001. We were on the last day of a long hike along the East Devon coastline; to come across such a beautiful secluded spot and swim in its gentle blue-green waves was bliss.

I’ve been back a couple of times since, most recently on a sultry Sunday afternoon just over four months ago. We parked on an obscure country lane and my wife and I and our two Labrador Retrievers (sniffing the salt air excitedly – Labs adore the sea and can smell it from miles away) made our way to the beach on foot, threading our way through woodland echoing with birdsong and along a coastal path with views over the English Channel.

When you get down to the place itself there’s no shop, no pub, no car park, not even a hut selling teas. It’s a shingle beach, which deters the crowds and means the place is never crowded, even on a summer weekend.

This bitter January, though, the hordes have come to Branscombe beach, reviving one of the oldest traditions of the South-West: plundering wrecks. Centuries ago, wreckers used lanterns to lure ships onto the rocks deliberately; this time the elements did it for them.

I just hope that once the last containers have been looted of their BMW motorbikes and perfume, the dead fishes and sea-birds have been cleared away, the shampoo and other debris have been picked up by volunteers or washed out to sea, and the insurance companies have settled some very big bills, the beach will go back to being to exactly what it was: a place that made you feel that there’s nowhere better on a fine day. I doubt it, though.

To me, Queen Elizabeth II is a mysterious character. Most people never get to meet her. Those privileged enough to be graced by her presence are usually awarded with no more than a fleeting smile or handshake. I’ve seen the Queen once from outside Buckingham Palace with thousands of onlookers (mostly tourists,) but I normally rely on the tabloids for latest photos and movements of Her Majesty. So when asked to set up an interview with actress Helen Mirren – the silver-haired English actress who played Queen Elizabeth II in "The Queen" - I was eager to find out what she had to do to prepare for this role. How did she portray this highly-publicized figure with so little insight into her personal life?

Hours before our interview, the Academy Awards revealed this year’s nominees. Mirren was nominated in the Best Actress in the Leading Role category with other much bigger names. Meryl Streep, Kate Winslet, Penelope Cruz and Judi Dench, but she’s widely seen as the favorite. We showed up at the studio on the outskirts of London where she was filming her next movie, "Inkheart," and she met up with us shortly after the day’s filming wrapped. Didn’t take much time to get made up, and she looked every bit the same in person as in her movies.

"Delicate" was my first impression of Helen Mirren, probably because of her petite, slim frame and soft demeanor. No entourage. No attitude. Cameramen Darren Bull and David Mcbride set up three cameras and plenty of lights to capture the best shots, and CNN anchor Adrian Finighan sat down with her for a one-on-one interview. Since there was a short queue of media waiting after us, we were initially given five minutes for the interview, however Helen seemed to be enjoying Adrian’s questions so much that her publicist let the time slip a bit. We ended up with about 10 minutes of usable material and edited two versions of the interview. Not bad for half a day’s work!

One thing I didn’t expect from this interview is ... now when I think of the Queen of England, I think of Helen Mirren.

Click here to watch highlights of the interview.

-- From Eileen Hsieh, CNN Producer

It is rare when covering a story that doesn’t involve an immediate news event, such as a catastrophe, disaster or explosion that you get evidence of that which you are talking about in front of your very eyes.

But this year's delegates at the World Economic Forum can be in little doubt about the changing face of the world's climate -- they just need to look around them. Normally at this time of the year the snow on the mountainsides would be many feet deep – the base would be solid and skiers would be swooshing around in something approaching Alpine ecstasy.

That cannot be said this year. As my pictures show, much of the mountaintop is barely covered in anything like the normal amount of snow, and the reason is climate change and global warming.

Now some of you will say I am making a huge leap worthy of ski jumpers to take a few pics of poorly-snowed mountains and say this is climate disaster. So I asked on this morning's CNN Today, Professor Kiang from Peking University - a world expert on the subject - if this was the case. His answer left no room for doubt. Yes, this is just one small example of the climate change underway.

I wasn't satisfied, so I went back for another bash, less he had misunderstood my question (although there was no reason why he had.) Again the answer. Yes. By now, not unreasonably, he thought he was dealing with one of his duller students. Hadn’t he just answered that question in clear ringing tones?

The professor is a tolerant man. Yes again. Let there be no doubt. This is the sort of change we can expect to see in the years ahead.

I offer up this story not as a political statement nor position. That’s not my job. I offer it up because over the next few days the governmental leaders, business executives and NGOs will be debating the effect of global warming and climate change. As the head of the WEF, Klauss Schwab has said, this is one of the core issues on their agenda.

Well delegate. Look no further than the end of your nose – to be more precise at the mountain at the end of your nose. And now the debate can begin.

How I went in a few hours from my office chair to chatting with Leonardo DiCaprio is another story. But - you guessed - it has a lot to do with timing and a colleague asking me to help her and swap shift with her. Call it good karma, next thing I know, the gloomy London day that was Monday 22 of January - most depressing of the year, according to a research - takes a gleeful turn when I’m sent to interview the Hollywood actor and the cast of his latest movie "Blood Diamond."

The place is the Claridges, one of London’s more sophisticated hotels, an Art Deco jewel favorite of the Queen and rock royalty.

Sure I’m thrilled, but not exactly because of Leonardo’s blue eyes. I know him from his movies and his decade-long presence in the media. I’ve always thought of him as a "cool guy," someone who chose not to be consumed by fame and grinded by the Hollywood machine, an actor who at the peak of his career chose a courageous path rather than a more predictable and opportunistic one. So this is my tiny chance to see if that’s all true, to scratch beyond the glossy surface of the magazines and take a rare glimpse at the human being, not the semi-god spotted arm in arm with gorgeous models at the Oscars.

Oh, and I have five minutes to do that. Yes, five minutes to see the real Leonardo and hear about the movie, the idea, the controversial subject of blood diamonds financing wars in Africa, child soldiers, a black man looking for his son (Djimon Hounsou) and a white man (Leonardo DiCaprio) desperate for a way out of a life he has a lot of distaste for. We’re on a tight schedule today as the event organized at the Claridges is a so called "media junket," where a great number of journalists are invited on the same day, in the same place, to interview the movie’s cast. So my colleague Kendra and I patiently wait for our call, while frantic press agents scroll through a long list of names and, one by one, whisk each journalist into the interview rooms. What am I going to do, spit my ten-something questions like fire, so as not to steal precious time to his answers? But then it doesn’t go that way.

I enter the room and the studio lighting is so strong I can barely see DiCaprio sitting on a chair right in front of mine. He seems diminutive there, he looks boyish, good-looking of course, but in a very different way from the screen…more like a normal guy than a huge Hollywood star. I introduce myself and shake his hand: "Hi Leonardo" I say while pronouncing his name in my mother-tongue Italian, rolling that "rrr" and stretching the "e" the same way I would say Da Vinci’s name.

Cameras roll and so come the answers and it looks clear from the way he talks that he truly liked working on this highly charged movie. His character, Danny Archer, is a soldier of fortune who has been arrested for smuggling diamonds, not an immediately likeable man and a far cry from the one he impersonated in Titanic. As he sails through my questions, he seems genuine and so down to earth at times I almost forget I am talking to a Hollywood actor. There’s nothing self-conscious or overly guarded about him. I feel I don’t need to bring down walls, that this is a chat the same way I’d have with any other guy his age. Time is running out and I spit out the last question, trying to ignore his publicist who’s been giving me dirty looks for the last minute or so. She raises her hand and says "We have to stop here." I know … it’s her job. But I’m doing mine and look back at Leonardo and repeat my question. He says to her ‘It ok’ and answers what I’ve asked.

It’s the day before the Oscar nominations and though he steered away from the subject during the interview (how to blame him?), I stand up from my chair and whisper "good luck," leaving behind the bright lights of Leonardo’s set.

It's Monday and the whole CNN team from London and Atlanta have arrived in the Alpine ski resort of Davos for the World Economic Forum. And it's no mean feat getting everyone with luggage, cameras and edit gear up the mountain. Everyone has settled into their apartments and hotels and even better, the computers in our work space are actually working! Our trusty IT guru Sylvia has spent the entire day fielding questions that usually start with "Why can't I...?" or "Why won't it...?" and I swear the woman has the patience of a saint. When I was here in 2003, I don't think I even unpacked my laptop, it was all pen and paper. Possibly more to do with my tech incompetence than lack of IT support, but that's another story. Now we're all so reliant on files and e-mails and our own CNN systems that it's unthinkable not to be able to get onto the computer.

We go live in 90 minutes and the "bird" (slang for the satellite) is up and running. So far so good -- but for those of us who have been here before, we know it's just the calm before the storm. The WEF meeting officially begins on Wednesday and that's when the stress levels really start to rise. 2,400 delegates, 220 official sessions and a big media bun fight to schmooze the political and business elite. I choose to believe it's organised chaos -- but those watching from a distance might think otherwise. A lot of running around, trying to make sure you don't miss anything, shoving food down when you get a moment's rest, shouting for camera men -- you can't think where they've gone until you remember you sent them on a two camera shoot for a high-level interview about 20 minutes ago. The whole affair is one big juggling act.

So I'm trying to enjoy the relative peace and tranquility while it lasts -- I can almost feel the storm approaching.

-- From Executive Producer Sonia Sequeira

I have a confession to make. I look forward to attending Davos with all the enthusiasm of a patient heading for root canal.

The reason is not the event itself: The fact is over the next few days I will have the chance to meet dozens of people who I would otherwise have to travel thousands of miles to schmooze. And I will meet people that would not usually come anywhere near me. Government ministers who are usually shielded by a bevy of advisers and minders, CEOs who usually travel in an entourage of private planes and six star hotels.

No, the reason is the cold, it’s as simple as that. I have the task of presenting the morning shows. And that means getting up at 0400 and standing outside anchoring from 0600-1000. At that time of the morning the sun is non-existent and the nighttime cold is at its worst. Bits of me that shouldn’t feel cold start to freeze!

Well this year it is all change. We have moved into the 21^st Century. Heat has arrived in Davos. Well to be more precise. Heat has arrived at CNN in Davos.

A brilliant contraption constructed by our satellite engineer Edwin now means we won’t be freezing as we present our programs.

This magnificent platform blows hot air right up my trouser leg. Our guests will feel warm all over and not because we are grilling them with searching questions.

Now I hear you retort: “Quest, heating is hardly a 21^st Century idea.” But that ignores history. For the past few years presenting from Davos has been a mixture of great interviews and miserable conditions. That has all changed with this new platform.

And if you think I exaggerate … I took huge pleasure in showing round producers from our competitor networks. When they saw the CNN All-Comfort platform there gasp of “Whoa….wow…whooooooo” just gave me a tingle of delight.

Oh how the little things please me.

So now this blog is attracting ever more intriguing responses. Have a look at this one below - it reads like an official press release from the Junta. It came in without a signature, so we don’t know who sent it…

Dear Mr. Dan Rivers,
On our part, may we be allowed to put the following on the record:-
Thailand's policy on press freedom remains the same as expressed by Prime Minister Surayud Chulanont during his speech at the Foreign Correspondents’ Club of Thailand (FCCT) on 7 November 2006, after assuming the position of Prime Minister. You yourself were present then.

(Well, actually I wasn’t, because the 7th of November is my birthday and I distinctly remember being at Angkor Wat, but anyway, let’s not let the facts get in the way of this fascinating contribution)

The Council of National Security (CNS) has requested for and received good cooperation from television and radio broadcasters in Thailand in being discreet when broadcasting programmes that might affect the process of political reform or national reconciliation in this country.

The Thai Government and the CNS by no means have any intention of controlling nor influencing the work of the media, both domestic and international.

Yes, the fact is that the recent broadcasts of the excerpt of Mr. Thaksin Shinawatra’s interview with CNN’s “Talk Asia” on Monday, 15 January and its full programme on Saturday, 20 January 2007 were not aired in Thailand. But it is also the fact that the blockade of signal was voluntarily done by the UBC, the carrier of the CNN broadcast in Thailand. Neither the Government nor the CNS has ever issued instructions or request for the broadcaster to prevent the programme from being on air.

It is also the fact that the said programme was broadcast in its entirety on the following day. After UBC’s consultations with the authorities concerned, UBC has broadcast it in full on Sunday, 21 January 2007 between 08.30-09.00 hours (Thailand time).

Well apparently UBC are now telling us that they didn’t in fact block our broadcast at all. It begs the question : who did???? Anyway, it’s all getting a bit “inside baseball” this, so for those of you who aren’t interested in Thai politics, skip this bit and read about Cambodia, below!

For those that are interested: our broadcast was blocked right up until this last weekend, when mysteriously the full interview was suddenly allowed to be shown. Someone was responsible for that decision. I have no proof who that was, or who actually pushed the button, but it was widely reported the Junta asked the local media to cooperate and not to broadcast or publish messaages from Thaksin. A request by a military junta is a bit like a polite question from a 700 kilo gorilla - it doesn’t matter how politely the question is put, you’re going to acquiesce and say yes, unless you want to be bashed on the head with a banana. It might not be an “order” or a “ban”, but the message was clear - if you want to stay on-side with the army in Thailand, you’d be advised to do what it asks and don’t cause any trouble. And as the army now runs the country, keeping the generals on-side obviously seems sensible to some media here.

Anyway, let’s park that issue there.

I’m in Cambodia at the moment, looking at the issue of sex-slaves and child prostitution. It’s harrowing, desperate stuff. Some of the interviews were difficult to listen to - I can’t imagine how the victims of this awful industry feel. I wonder how much of the violence, perversion and down-right evil we’ve encountered while talking to victims of the sex trade here, is down to Cambodia’s shattered past and the genocide committed during the Khmer Rouge years in the 70’s. I guess, sadly it’s probably much the same in many other countries the world over, but it doesn’t stop me grasping for a rationale or cause, which can explain how parents could possibly sell their own five year old girl to a brothel.