The smell of the tear gas wants to make you vomit. Literally. It’s like every fiber of your being wants to heave the poison from your body.

You cough, cry, tear up - thus the appropriate name, tear gas. It’s commonly used weapon by the Israeli Defense Forces against protesters, rioters - general troublemakers, as they’re perceived.

They come from all over - as close as this Bi’lin, deep in the West Bank where this particular protest is taking place. But they also come from Israel (protesting against their own troops), and of course from the Palestinian territories; places like Nablus and Jenin.

They’re also coming from America.

They are here because of a fence. This “security fence” that divides Palestinian farm land. Israel calls it necessary for to keep suicide bombers off its streets.

But it’s these foreign tourists that make this event – planned every Friday so interesting. Because here – this protest, is no joke. A rubble bullet can end your life, and tear gas can make you pass out - not to mention to the stun grenadines that can blow out an eardrum.

The day for these, “modern hippies” begins like any military briefing would begin. Except this one, is given by an Israeli – Johnathen Pollack, who has obvious experience protesting the wall.

"Do not wash your face, he says. “Tear gas sticks to wet surfaces and it will stick more if you water your face. What can you use is baby wipes or alcohol pads to wipe away the tear gas. Don't drink directly after you are hit with tear gas because it will bring in more tear gas in your system."

Of course CNN brings its own experience to the table. The levelheaded, always on top over everything, Mr. Ben Wedeman. This correspondent can walk into any Arab village and speak the language to which the first question will be “are you from here”

It drives the rest of us crazy.

Someone of his experience is far cooler in the face of incoming Israeli rounds than the foreign tourists. Once saying while the Israeli’s were unleashing tear gas,” no disappointment here - this is what you wanted,”

It was, I wanted to film something other that US troops firing at insurgents.

So, the tear gas was exchanged with the rubber bullets. And all the while American kids on their summer break travelled to become a part of this madness. I wonder if they had ever seen the end result of a rubber bullet?

Some moments you can’t see your hand in front your face. The tear gas is so potent. It makes you cry and gag and unable to do your job. You can’t film - you can’t take still photos - you can’t do anything.

Two American students remark almost aimlessly about the serious event for one local – and how it played out for them, thinking first Israeli troops had shot a Palestinian kid, later finding out it was not true ...

“I was here when this guy got hit - his buddy hit him in the head with a rock and everyone was like ... it's a rubber bullet”

Some Americans are here strictly for political reasons.

"Israel is the largest recipient of US foreign aid- and I disagree with what has been done with our money. I feel that this is the least I could do to come and stand in solidarity with the Palestinian people", says student Ryan Graves from Arizona.

Maybe it’s their summer of living dangerously. Maybe it’s misplaced aggression. But every week, the youth of the West are joining the weekly exchange between Palestinian youths – and Israeli soldiers.

-- From Cal Perry, CNN International Correspondent, in Bi’lin.

The haze of hubbly-bubbly smoke hangs thick and blue in the Saxaphone café in Amman, Jordan. It’s packed with eager Iraqi soccer fans, watching their team play South Korea in the Asian championships. Everyone here is a refugee. They’ve fled the grinding violence of Iraq, hoping for a better life. The noise is deafening – drums are flamboyantly pummeled, as men dressed in Iraqi soccer shirts dance and sing in support. I hang at the back of the packed room, as we film the chaotic scene. But despite my best efforts to remain anonymous and discreet, I am warmly proffered soft drinks on the house, by the owner, who is delighted to have an outlet for his generosity. In my experience, the most welcoming and hospitable people, are those who have nothing at all.

Jalal La’eighty is typical of the men gathered here. He arrived a year ago after the situation in Baghdad became intolerable. His two and a half year old son was kidnapped by a sectarian gang. Little Ali was released unharmed, but for Jalal it was the breaking point - he simply had to leave. At first, he and his family fled to Syria, but then they came to Jordan. In many ways they are lucky. Jalal lost his father to the civil war in Iraq, but his children and wife are alive and safe.

They are staying in the apartment of a family friend. But money is tight. Jalal is not allowed to work in Jordan; a condition of his admission to the country as a refugee. He had to borrow $4500 from a relative to pay for food. But he only has $300 left and doesn’t know what he’ll do when that runs out. In reality, he’ll probably be forced to work illegally. He isn’t just providing for his three children though – his family has been touched by tragedy in Jordan; his brother and sister in law were killed in a house fire in Amman, leaving three orphans. Jalal is now also looking after them. Six children, no income and no hope of a proper job – Jalal is facing a bleak and uncertain future. But he is relieved at simply having escaped the oppressive nightmare of Baghdad. His wife Siham, weeps as she admits that she may never breathe the air of Iraq again. The whole family desperately wants to go home – Jalal wants to take-up his job as a taxi driver in Baghdad again. They had a nice house, friends and family all around them But now it’s simply too dangerous to contemplate returning.

I ask him if life was better under Saddam. He says life is better now – but says the country is in chaos. He is resigned to life as a refugee for now. He’s determined not to put his family at risk again by returning to Baghdad – not until the kidnapping, torture and killing stops.

Jalal is just one of an estimated four million Iraqis who have been displaced by the sectarian violence. It’s putting a huge strain on Iraq’s neighbors, like Jordan and Syria. When they arrive, refugees want to send their children to state schools, they need hospital treatment and healthcare. Jordan is a country of just five million people, but the government estimates the population has been swelled by up to 750,000 Iraqi refugees. It’s stretching resources to breaking point. The UNHCR is appealing for $123 million dollars to help. For Jalal, with his dwindling $300 dollars of borrowed money, help can’t come soon enough. He needs money to feed his family and time is running out.

Watch my report

-- From Dan Rivers, CNN International Correspondent, in Amman.

Interesting being one of the many correspondents covering this flooding disaster, one who also happens to be an American citizen. You hear journalists and a few flood victims talking about how these devastating floods - the worst flooding England has seen in some 60 years - as Britain's Katrina. They are, of course referring to the 2005 Hurricane that devastated much of the south and gulf coast areas of the United States.

And while some British opposition politicians are criticizing Prime Minister Gordon Brown's party for allegedly not taking enough heed to years-old official warnings that this country's flood defense system could not cope with an unprecedented incident like this - this isn't Katrina.

Following initial chaos, there seems to be a coordinate effort to get help to those who need it most in a timely manner.
Unlike the Katrina aftermath, there isn't widespread lawlessness here. There aren't police officers walking away from their posts. There aren't bodies abandoned on the road, or floating in the water, and so far, no apparent disparities between who gets help when.

Of course, there is widespread devastation. Personal and agricultural and business losses will be in the hundreds of millions of dollars...not to mention the emotional trauma of losing everything one owns to putrid waters.

But what I am seeing is an overwhelming 'can do' spirit, flood survivors uttering the very British we will 'just get on with it' phrase I've grown accustomed to hearing. I've seen ordinary citizens working alongside government and military teams to help the elderly, the weak and needy. I'm thinking of one rubbish collector helping distribute water bottles at a local government council building - it was close to midnight, and he'd been lugging those heavy water boxes to flood survivors all day. Anyone else would be exhausted: he said he was pleased to know he's doing something to help. And that he'd be back in the morning.

--From Alphonso Van Marsh, CNN International Correspondent, in Tewkesbury.