By Eric Baculinao, NBC News Beijing bureau chief

 

BEIJING - It was hardly conceivable that the sports of rock n' roll dancing and Frisbee could help drive Taiwan closer to China, but that's exactly what happened with the recent visit to China of a leading stalwart of Taiwan's pro-independence movement.

 

Chen Chu, mayor of Kaohsiung, Taiwan's second largest city, took a big political gamble by flying to Beijing to seek help in selling her hometown's World Games, an alternative to the Olympics, that has seen disappointing sales. That a prominent figure of the pro-independence and anti-China opposition party had  no choice but to seek Beijing's help illustrates a startling reversal of the political wind across the once-turbulent Taiwan Strait.

 

And, in turn, the dramatic shift from the threat of war to the outbreak of peace, due in large part to the growing economic dependence of Taiwan on China, is fueling speculation that the two former rivals are headed towards greater integration and reunification.

 

From threat to savior

Kaohsiung, Taiwan's leading port city with the world's eighth busiest port, has been hit hard by the slump in Taiwan's export-dependent economy. The city is pinning hopes of tourism growth and economic revival on the success of the World Games scheduled for July.

 

The World Games features some 31 unusual sports not included in the Olympics, such as dance sport, korfball, orienteering and fistball, among others. The city of 1.5 million has already invested $180 million on games facilities, where about 5,000 athletes from 90 countries are expected to compete. It will be Taiwan's biggest international sporting event ever.

 

The problem is that only about 10 percent of the 300,000 tickets have been sold.  For Mayor Chen Chu, Mainland China, just 100 miles away, is the potential savior. Since late last year, Beijing has officially encouraged its citizens to visit Taiwan en masse.

 

Notwithstanding her party credentials as an advocate of Taiwan independence, she decided to visit Beijing and Shanghai to drum up support for the Games, even inviting Beijing's mayor to attend the Games' opening ceremony. " I brought new voices from Taiwan to the mainland," she told the media, acknowledging the ice-breaking significance of her trip.

 

'Fruitful year' in relations
The dramatic rapprochement between Taiwan and China began in May last year after Taiwanese President Ma Ying-jeou was elected on a program of repudiating the pro-independence policies of his predecessor and seeking greater economic cooperation with Beijing.

 

Since then, the two sides have signed at least nine agreements, greatly boosting trade, investments, travel and tourism.  Of the two-way trade of $129 billion last year, the mainland only exported some $25 billion in goods, handing Taiwan a $77 billion trade surplus, a significant cushion against the world economic crisis.

 

Since the travel ban was lifted, some 100,000 mainland Chinese have visited Taiwan, and according to Taiwan's Transportation Minister, the flow could increase to 3-4 million a year. 

 

For the first time ever, Taiwan has assumed a seat as member of the World Health Organization with the support of China, whereas even at the height of the SARS crisis in 2003, China strenuously opposed Taiwan's membership.

 

Taiwan's stock market is up 50 percent this year, boosted significantly by the new policy permitting mainland companies to invest in Taiwan.  And China has just announced a series of "buying missions" to Taiwan that could spend up to $10 billion on purchases of Taiwanese products.

 

"In one year, we have transformed the strait from a dangerous flashpoint to a conduit of peace and prosperity," declared President Ma.

 

"Danger" of integration?

However, according to Gordon G. Chang, a long-time observer of China, the deals President Ma is pursuing "will give Beijing economic leverage that will inevitably weaken resistance to Chinese rule." In an opinion piece for Forbes.com, he argued that "we have a lot to lose if Beijing swallows Taiwan whole,'' expressing concern that "Washington…is saying not a word about the worrisome developments"

 

"Taiwan is the key to keeping the U.S. in the game," he added, explaining that it would be difficult to defend Japan, and by extension South Korea, if Taiwan defects to China.

 

For Profesor Yan Xuetong, expert on international security at China's Tsinghua University, the fear of Taiwan defecting to China as a result of economic integration is "just imagination."  "There is no historical evidence or logic to support the claim that economic integration leads to political reunification," he said.

 

"There is more economic integration between Canada and the U.S., or between Germany and Austria, and yet there is no national reunification," he argued.

 

Andrew Yang, secretary-general of the China Council of Advanced Policy Studies in Taipei, the improved ties are "a win-win for both sides and politics is not an issue."

 

"China has a window of opportunity to improve its influence in Taiwan, and it has been successful," he said.

 

"The end-game is to realize long-term peace and security that benefit both sides, and to leave to the future generation the decision on the final outcome of the process," he added.

BEIJING – "City of Life and Death" might sound like your average escapist action film helping to usher in the summer movie season. 

But it's not.

The 2-hour black and white epic recounts the early days of Japan's occupation of Nanking (now known as Nanjing) in 1937. Over six weeks, Japanese troops committed brutal atrocities against hundreds of thousands of residents of the wartime Chinese capital. 

Estimates of those killed vary wildly, but historians say around 200,000 to 300,000 people were slaughtered.  It's a dark episode of World War Two that doesn't get much mention in the West, but here in China no one has forgotten.

Courtesy of Lu Chuan Film Studio

Japanese troops take over Nanking in the "City of Life and Death."

"In China, everyone knows about the Nanjing Massacre," said 38-year old filmmaker Lu Chuan, who directed "City of Life and Death." 

"But as far as I know, nobody outside of China knows [about it]… I think it's important to let people outside of China know the truth, because wars and massacres are everywhere."

Portraying Japanese in a new light
But Lu's film does more than "tell the truth."

Using an ensemble cast of Chinese and Japanese actors, the movie tries to portray Japanese soldiers in a much more humane light than previously seen in China-made movies of that era.

"I think it's the first time in China for a Chinese movie to tell the story from a Japanese angle," Lu told us over tall glasses of watermelon juice on a recent sweltering afternoon near Beijing's Ritan Park. "It's the first time for Chinese audiences to watch in a Chinese film that the Japanese soldiers are human beings, not beasts."

That might seem like an honorable aim, but the response from Chinese moviegoers has been anything but impressed. 

Courtesy Lu Chuan Film Studio

Hideo Nakaizumi plays a sympathetic Japanese soldier in "City of Life and Death."

"Seventy years ago 300,000 Chinese people were humiliated by the Japanese, and 70 years later, more than 300,000 Chinese people are humiliated by Lu Chuan," wrote one irate blogger after seeing the movie, whose Chinese title is "Nanjing! Nanjing!"

Another Chinese person accused the director of making a film designed to please Western audiences instead of portraying history the way the viewer felt it should be depicted: "Lu Chuan used Chinese people face to lick westerners' butts."

They 'never said sorry'
The filmmaker, who studied at the Beijing Film Academy, said he was shocked by the reaction, which included e-mailed death threats. "I thought that the Chinese audience would support me," he said. "I did the right thing in the right way. I wanted to do something for the country, because I love the country and I love the people."

Lu thinks some of the anger is not so much over his film but the fact Japan has yet to fully accept responsibility for the Nanking Massacre. The Nazis, he observed, killed more people in Europe, "But they said, sorry. Japanese officials [and] the Japanese government never said sorry to China [or] to the Chinese people for the war and the massacre. I think this is the main reason for their anger."

The controversy hasn't stopped people from flocking to the movie. In the month since it's been out in theaters, "City of Life and Death" has brought in $23 million. Not bad in a country where the average movie ticket in big cities is still quite steep – from $6 to $12 – and the typical monthly take-home pay is just under $300.  But that's still only half of what China's all-time box office winner, Titanic, earned several years ago.

Courtesy Lu Chuan Film Studio

Director Lu Chuan sets up a scene with a child actor.

And there have been some supportive reviews. "The movie shows us the night of despair and the dawn of hope," writes one fan. "It deserves respect."

The state-run English newspaper, China Daily, called the movie "a fresh approach to a familiar chapter of Chinese history… Lu Chuan…depicts the war in a more humane fashion rather than playing on local sensitivities and creating simple black-and-white portraits of good and evil."

Hoping to 'build a bridge'
Given Japan's own sensitivities to that time, it seems unlikely that the movie will find a distributor in China's neighbor, but Lu says he is optimistic. "I want to build up a bridge between China and Japan, a bridge of communication, that helps people to get more from the history," he said.  "If we want to have a stable relationship, I think they need to know more about the history."

The film might fare better in the United States.  American independent movie mogul Harvey Weinstein has seen it twice, said Lu, who hopes "City of Life and Death" will pick up distribution in the United States before long.

As the number of people fleeing fighting in Pakistan's northwestern Swat valley reaches nearly 2 million, the race to help those displaced by the worsening war may prove crucial in determining the outcome of the battle. NBC News' Ian Williams reports.

VIDEO: Realatives, friends strain to take in Pakistan refugees

Graduation is just a month away and millions of college students in China are expected to hit the streets during what is the country's tightest job market in decades.

In anticipation of keen competition, most of this year's 6.1 million graduates have been searching high and low for work the past few months.  But they join an estimated two to three million graduates from previous years who still haven't found jobs.

VIDEO: China's graduates face grim job prospects

The graduate glut isn't simply the result of a slowing economy. It's the product of increased college enrollment and the expanding number of campuses. In 1998, there were 3.4 million college students in China. Last year, there were just over 20 million.

It's been a tremendous investment in human capital, as one economist put it, but it hasn't quite turned out the way the government's hoped.  Aside from unemployment concerns, many students – and prospective employers – complain that the new graduates haven't got the right training or skills.

And for the millions of parents who save and scrimp to put their child through university, it's hard for them not to wonder whether it was worth it – would their child have been better off entering the job market straight out of high school?

Click on the video link above to see more of Adrienne Mong's report from Beijing.

As the war in Afghanistan morphs into a drug war, the U.S. is shifting its tactics by trying to develop alternative crop programs for the world's top opium producer. NBC News' Jim Maceda reports.

VIDEO: Planting seeds of change in Afghan drug war

TEL AVIV – America has always related to Israel with the carrot, but now Israelis fear the stick will be President Barack Obama's implement of choice. Maybe not right away, but soon.

As Israel's Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu (also known as "Bibi") and Obama meet on Monday for the first time since each assumed office, Israel's media, fed by government sources, are reaching a crescendo of hysteria: Is this the end of Israel's special relationship with America?

One analyst hoped so – writing that the only American president who really helped Israel was, the now much reviled here, Jimmy Carter.

He helped cobbled together Israel's peace treaty with Egypt by brow-beating then-Prime Minister Menachem Begin into giving up on his promises not to cede an inch of land. As a result of the Camp David Accords, Begin eventually gave up all of Sinai – winning a peace agreement with Egypt that stands firm today and is in no serious jeopardy.

So there are mixed feelings in Israel. On the one hand, nobody likes or wants to be bullied by America; while on the other many analysts accept that it is only by having its figurative head knocked together with the Palestinians' that any progress towards peace is likely.

However, the 30-minister right-wing Israeli government is in no mood to compromise. They do not want Netanyahu to accept a two-state solution and they do not want to give up any settlements in the West Bank – while both issues appear to be near the top of Obama's agenda.

Netanyahu will have to somehow ride out American pressure without ruining relations with Obama, while also satisfying his Israeli electorate that he hasn't caved in like Begin.

Will Barack like Bibi?
The most immediate issue, however, is what kind of personal chemistry will the two men have? Or put even more simply, will Barack like Bibi?

On this the Israeli media have little faith.

Netanyahu is widely dismissed as, to summarize the local press, a lying schemer, and insiders have been saying for days that Obama's advisors are as attuned to Netanyahu's ways as the Israelis themselves.

The only clear dissidents, the only group that sees things differently, who are convinced that all is well between Barack and Bibi and that nothing will change, are the Arabs.

Israeli Arabs, as well as Palestinians, are convinced that nothing will change as a result of the new U.S. administration and that America continues to be as beholden to Israel and the Jewish lobby as it ever was. Their analysts expect no American pressure on Israel.

For once, Israeli leaders are listening to the Palestinians and hope that they are right.

Related links:
Iran looms large as Obama, Netanyahu meet
Analysis: Israeli angst over Iran intensifies
Israel urges Syria to join direct peace talks

CAIRO – The aisles were empty in Country Homes Furniture in Wilbraham, Mass., and owners Hazel and Nazih Zebian were sitting in their office doing what they described as the "usual whining and complaining" about how bad business had become and questioning how much longer they could last. 

"Like so many people in these economic conditions, furniture has been hit hard," Hazel said. "It's the last thing people want to buy." 

Out of boredom, she began to surf the Internet and came across a story on msnbc.com about another man half a world away facing hard times: Abu Sayed in Cairo.

Mohamed Muslemany

Abu Sayed picks up his money from a Cairo Western Union.

We reported on how Sayed had just lost his small herd of pigs, the only source of income for his extended family of 14. The Egyptian government began culling all pigs in a misguided attempt to prevent swine flu. But pig farmers, most of them living below the poverty line, lost everything when police seized their swine herds without any compensation. 

Sayed was no exception. He was beaten by police when he asked what would happen to his herd.  He had no idea how he could continue to feed his own children or help provide for his brothers and sister.  

But after reading Sayed's story, Hazel silently calculated how much it would cost to replace the 25 pigs.

"I read it to my husband and as I started reading it, multiplied in my head and all it amounted to was $1,125.  I said, 'I wish we could give that to him ourselves.' And he said, 'If that's what you want to do, just go ahead and do it.'" 

Photo Courtesy of Zebian family

Hazel and Nazih Zebian, Sayed's Massachusetts benefactors, at a recent wedding.

Soon after, I received the following email from the Zebians: "I would like to know if there is any way possible I can make a financial contribution to this man and his family… I want someone to physically hand him the money on behalf of myself and my family so that he does not go without the income his pigs would have brought in for him." 

A few days later, after a flurry of e-mails and a trip to Western Union, the grateful Egyptian family was given a fresh start. 

"I was astounded when I found out there are people who care and are still good," Sayed said.  "They are good people. Human beings should support one another and they are a good example of that."  

Sayed plans to buy a flock of sheep with the money to replace his herd of pigs. "God willing, this will replace what I have lost."

Mohamed Muslemany

A grateful Abu Sayed picks up his money from the Zebians.

He and Nazih, a Lebanese-American, spoke briefly by phone. "I thanked him and expressed my appreciation," Sayed said. "Nazih is a respectable person and he wished me luck." Nazih said he hopes to come to Egypt and meet him in person.

By giving Sayed a second chance, the Zebians gained a fresh outlook on their own struggling business.

"After reading the article, we just thought, 'What are we complaining about?' and felt really good after doing it," said Hazel. "We will never forget." 

Members of the U.S. Army First Battalion, 26th Infantry man an isolated outpost, Camp Restrepo, in Afghanistan's Korengal Valley.

SLIDESHOW: Life at Camp Restrepo

Â

A mournful China marked the first anniversary of the devastating earthquake that left nearly 90,000 people dead or missing and 5 million homeless on Tuesday. NBC News' Ian Williams reports from the quake zone.

VIDEO: A year after China's quake, many still asking why

HANWANG, Sichuan Province – It came without warning. Its unexpectedness as stunning as the raw emotion it so clearly expressed.

We were wrapping up our interview with Huang Lianhe, a father who lost his only child, 18-year-old Dengfeng, in last year's deadly quake that killed more than 69,000 others in Sichuan, Gansu, and Shaanxi.

He was showing us photos of his son as his own elderly parents circled quietly in the background.

Adrienne Mong

VIDEO: One year later, Wang Zhenxiu still grieves for her only grandchild with raw emotionÂ

The grandmother, a diminutive but sturdy woman, approached with a friendly expression. She placed her hand on my wrist, her palm soft despite decades of hard farm work, and began to murmur something.

I leaned in expectantly but quickly leapt back when a sad, long wail erupted.

"My grandson didn't die in a natural disaster! He died from the collapsed school – it was bad construction!" cried the 68-year-old Wang Zhenxiu.

VIDEO: Reporter's Notebook: Uncovering the quake in China

Her grief was so overpowering because just moments before she had been smiling and full of equanimity.

"He was about to sit for the university entrance exam," said her husband, 73-year-old Huang Biyuan, tears also welling in his eyes.

Like many others living in a country with a strict birth control policy, the family was grieving the loss of its sole heir. All the family's hopes and dreams were invested in young Dengfeng, who would have been expected to care for his parents in their old age. He also was expected to be the first one in the family to go to university.

"He died from bad construction!" shouted Wang again, to no one in particular, yet at the same time at everyone.

The student's father, Lianhe, stood to the side, mute, his eyes lowered to the ground.

His son had been a senior at Dongqi Middle School in Hanwang, Sichuan Province. At least 200 other students were killed in the same school when the floors of the building caved in after the quake struck.

Parents of the victims early on demanded an investigation into whether the school was poorly constructed since many of the surrounding buildings remained standing. But instead of getting answers, they were silenced.

Adrienne Mong

Students from Beichuan Middle School attend a groundbreaking for their new school.

As with many parents, Lianhe has been under the watchful eye of local authorities. Attempts to meet journalists have been thwarted, and he said he has been followed whenever he has tried to see the parents of other child victims.

Lianhe explained that the officials argued that they needed "'to maintain social order,' as if we were starting a riot."

No one is allowed near the Dongqi school, which is now surrounded by brick walls topped off with shards of glass. And someone is always watching the gate, Lianhe said.

"The dorm building, which was still standing, has been torn down, and the collapsed classrooms are now covered over with debris," he said.

If the city of Hanwang was going to be kept standing as a memorial site, wreckage and all, Lianhe argued, why couldn't the remains of the school be kept as they were, too?

"It seems like they are trying to cover some crime, these officials," he said, his eyes narrowing.

SLIDESHOW: China marks earthquake anniversary

But the father's anger seems less fiery than it did last June when we first met him. There's more resignation, his voice sounds almost flat.

"The government considers this [issue] over. There's not much I can do," he said. "I'm over 40 now, too old to have another child. I don't know who will look after us."

A year after the quake, parents like Lianhe and grandmothers like Wang still have yet to get any answers – or any satisfactory resolution – from the local and central governments.

No wonder Wang's tears burst into full force at the slightest mention of Dengfeng.

"The school owes my grandson justice," she said.

Related links:
China marks anniversary of devastating quake
World Blog: Flowers for the dead...and the living
Officials blunt activism set off by China quake
VIDEO: One year after quake: return to Beichuan
VIDEO: Artist continues quest for real quake toll

BEICHUAN, China – It looked like a Sunday midday stroll.

Families, couples, and clusters of young students carrying large bouquets and plastic bags containing incense and paper walked under a hazy sun toward a town set in a picturesque river valley.

But this was no weekend country ramble, and the town of Beichuan was no longer really a town.

Adrienne Mong / NBC News

Visitors to Beichuan pay their respects to the dead.

A ghostly presence now, Beichuan was leveled on May 12 last year, when a deadly earthquake measuring 7.9 on the Richter scale struck western China.

So many buildings in this town collapsed, and landslides shed boulders the size of houses onto the main road, sealing off the town, that that it took rescuers days before they could assess the actual scope of the damage.

When they did, it was discovered that half of Beichuan's population of 30,000 was killed or missing.

"Our friend's parents died there," said Wu Qian, a young woman who, like her three friends, carried a bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums.  "They're still buried in there. We came to bring flowers."

AMMAN, Jordan -- Rita Aziz, a 24-year-old Christian Iraqi woman, fled her country for Amman a few months ago after her two brothers were kidnapped on a highway leading north from Baghdad.   

Shortly afterward, she received a telephone call from neighbors in Baghdad telling her that two bodies had been found and that they could be those of her missing brothers. They suggested she return to Baghdad to identify them. She took the next available flight from Amman.

VIDEO: Iraqi Christians face test of faith

Just as she arrived at her house, four men appeared and bundled her into a car and drove her to an unknown destination.

For the next five days they raped and tortured her, telling her they were punishing her for being a Christian.

"Four of them without souls or morals or anything treated me brutally," she said. "They did acts, they showed no mercy.  They told me you are a Christian and we are going to do things to you."

Aziz said she endured her horrific ordeal by praying to God.

"They told me to become a Muslim, and when they tortured me I used to pray to God... just let me die a Christian," she said.

Eventually, relatives in the United States paid a $15,000 ransom for her and she was released.

Rita made her way back to Amman, where today she lives alone in a one-room apartment. Her husband is in Sweden applying for asylum, but the chances of that working out don't look good, because Sweden has decided not to grant any more visas to Iraqis following assurances from the Iraqi government that the security situation at home has improved enough for all refugees to return.

Rita's story is not uncommon in Jordan. 

The United Nations says there are 7,000 Iraqi Christians registered as refugees in Amman, but the real number is probably more than 10,000. Hardly any of them plan to return home despite Iraqi government claims that it's safe for them to go back.

This weekend, while Pope Benedict was being greeted by Jordanian notables at the start of his week-long visit to the Holy Land, many were hoping that he would pay particular attention to their plight. Rumors persist that he might even make a lightning-quick visit to Iraq to highlight violence directed at Christians in Basra, Mosul and Baghdad.

Christian women in Iraq live in fear and rarely venture out from their homes unless accompanied by male relatives. Many are too afraid even to attend church. Kidnappers see them as an unprotected minority affluent enough to afford a ransom.

Father Butros Haddad celebrates mass in Baghdad every evening, but only a few worshippers attend his services.

"Many Christian churches in Iraq have been attacked," he said. "We never had anything like that in our history. Priests were killed, and even the Cardinal of Mosul Paul Faraj Riho was brutally killed. The killers had no respect for his age and his religious position."

In Saddam Hussein's time, there were nearly a million Christians living in Iraq, descendants of the first converts to Christianity in Mesopotamia 2,000 years ago. Legend has it that Saint Thomas, one of Jesus Christ's original disciples, brought their faith here from the Holy Land.

Today there are only about 400,000. The rest have fled abroad.

In Amman, Father Raymond Moussalli says mass in Aramaic, the language of Jesus Christ, to a small congregation of Iraqi Christians. Most are waiting for visas to the United States.

"We have big Christian communities there in Detroit and in San Diego. We have communities in Canada and France and Australia. Most Iraqi Christians want to go there," he says.

Most are too afraid to return to their home country.

During Easter, the Iraqi government posted armed guards around Christian churches so parishioners could attend services, but a few days later they were withdrawn.

And a few days after that, five Christians were murdered in Baghdad and Mosul.

MARDAN, Pakistan – Shaista, a terrified 11-year-old girl from the Swat Valley, was lying in a hospital bed in Mardan's ill-equipped health center on Friday.

She suffered severe injuries to her legs when an artillery shell, reportedly fired by Pakistani troops, hit her family's small house Thursday night in Mingora.

The traumatized Shaista said the mortar shell struck a room where she was sleeping. Her voice choking, Shaista said her mother, two sisters and brother were killed in the incident – and then she became lost in deep despair.

Mushtaq Yusufzai / NBC

Shaista, 11, in her hospital bed in Marden.

A doctor treating the girl said she seems to lose her memory when speaking and starts to suddenly cry – apparently because of deep shock she suffered.

Children have proved to be some of the hardest-hit victims among the estimated 1 million people displaced by the ongoing fighting between Pakistan's armed forces and Taliban militants in the northern districts of Buner and Swat.

Shaista said her father was worried about her family's safety after the Pakistani military launched its operation against the Taliban in Swat and went to locate a house in a safer area for them to go to.

"He went to Dargai town on Thursday and said he would shift us to a safer place on Friday," she said, but the move didn't happen soon enough. She said her neighbors recovered the bodies of her mother, sisters and brother from the rubble of the building and then took her to the hospital in the morning.

Ahmad Yar, a villager from Daggar who was taking care of his critically injured mother in the same ward of the hospital, said he had decided to take Shaista to his home once she is discharged. He said the neighbors who had taken her to the hospital left so that they could move their own families to a safer place.

In the same hospital, more than a dozen people had been admitted from Buner district with multiple injuries they received when they came under heavy artillery shelling by the security forces.

Mushtaq Yusufzai / NBC News

Pakhtun Qamar, 12, was injured by an artillery shell in the Swat Valley. Doctors in the Marden hospital operated on his legs and had to amputate several of his fingers.

"We don't know what our crime is that our own armed forces are targeting us. On one hand the government is asking us to vacate our houses and on the other they imposed curfew and blocked all roads in Buner," complained Sher Badshah, who came from the village of Suwarai. He said thousands of people are still trapped in Buner who cannot come out due to a government imposed curfew and the blockade of roads.

Badshah complained that he was taking his family to the apparent safety of Mardan when an artillery shell hit one of the trucks, killing five members of his family and injuring three others, including his aged father.

"Now tell me what crime this aged person had committed," his angry son asked.

He alleged that instead of eliminating Taliban militants, the troops have been targeting innocent people who wanted to flee for safer places.

He claimed several people who were moving to safer places via the mountains had been killed by indiscriminate military artillery shelling and their bodies were still lying there.

'I don't know what kind of people these Taliban are'

Shams-ul-Qamar's story was no less tragic. He said he lost his eldest son in the cross-fire between Taliban and security forces.

"Qamar had just passed his matriculation examination and was looking forward to getting admission to college," he said.

But his family's tragedy started months ago – when Pakistani troops set up a security post close to his house.

"Being a Pakhtuns, it's our tradition to serve guests with whatever is available at home," Qamar said, referring to the tribal group in Pakistan's North-West Frontier Province. "We were poor people but tried to serve the guest soldiers sometime with milk, tea and drinking water."

However, when the troops vacated their roadside post under a peace deal that was struck between the government and the Taliban last February, militants decided to settle their score with Qamar and his family.

"They entered our home and opened fire, killing my sister Zar Bibi, my niece Farzana, my 50-year-old sister-in-law Zareena, and kidnapping my nephew on charges of taking sides and helping the Pakistan Army troops. The Taliban also took [my nephew's] 88 model Toyota car. They later released him when he paid 100,000 rupees to the Taliban," the terrified Qamar told me and then broke into tears.

He said the government has done nothing for him since he lost four of his family members for supporting their troops.

"I don't know what kind of people these Taliban are – Pakhtuns never target women and children," he said.

 MOSCOW – At the Russian Orthodox Church of Saints Cosmas and Damian in central Moscow, attendance has almost doubled in the past year alone. At most churches, this would be a blessing.

But for this church, the spike in attendees is not attributed to successful preaching or newfound faith. Instead, it's due to the soup kitchen that serves up free meals four times a week in the midst of the ongoing financial crisis.

"Last year our biggest meals would have around 300 people," said Boris Kleparsky, a volunteer who led prayers before serving soup, potatoes and sausages to rows of people sitting at long tables running the length of the church. "But this winter we were already routinely getting over 500 people a meal. And it's all because of the crisis."

Oxana Onipko / AFP - Getty Images

Unemployed Russians read classifieds while waiting in line at a job fair in Moscow on March 18, 2009.

Kleparksy and other volunteers say the majority of the new faces they are seeing at the soup kitchen are not the customary pensioners or homeless clients, but newly unemployed who can't make ends meet in an expensive city like Moscow.

"They came here from all over Russia, even Ukraine and Kazakhstan looking for work, and now those jobs have dried up," said Kleparsky.

Yura Petrushan was one of those people suddenly looking for work. The 25-year-old construction worker waited in line for the second shift at the soup kitchen, a place he started coming to a few weeks ago.

"I used to be able to buy bread or cook some macaroni at my apartment when I had work," said Petrushan, who also supports his wife and four-year-old daughter who live 125 miles outside Moscow. "Since the crisis hit, I rarely get paid. I'm hired for a job, but then the bosses disappear with the money after the job is done," he lamented. "But now there aren't even jobs anymore."

Petrushan is one of the estimated 7.5 million unemployed Russians, already 1.5 million more than the government had predicted for 2009. And those numbers don't include people who have been put on forced furloughs or shortened work weeks.

Kremlin addressing the crisis 'openly'
The Kremlin is trying to reassure the public that the government is strong enough to help the country weather the economic storm.

"We have sufficient reserves in the budget to deal with most important issues, in particular unemployment and support to families," said Arkady Dvorkovich, economic advisor to President Medvedev.

VIDEO: Kremlin says it's tackling the financial crisis

Even as other indicators such as GDP loss and the drop in industrial output are larger than the government's forecast, Dvorkovich stressed that the decline was slowing down – a possible sign that the worst has already passed.

He also emphasized that the government makes its economic decisions "as openly as possible" and welcomes input from outside the government.

But sometimes it is hard to reconcile the government's claims of openness with its actions.

Fewer statistics released
Last fall, as the crisis began to take its toll, the St. Petersburg Times claimed that the Kremlin was instructing television channels to soften their tone when reporting financial news and avoid using words like "financial crisis" or "collapse."

And last month the Kommersant, a business daily, reported that Russia's Federal State Statistic Service had stopped releasing monthly unemployment statistics and would only publish the numbers quarterly. Some Russian analysts say the move allows the government to avoid a continuous flow of negative news.

Media reports and statistics don't make a difference, though, to the hundreds of new clients arriving at the church's soup kitchen.

"I hope someone is working to make things better for us," said Yura Ivanov, a 50-year-old builder who came with Petrushan. "But I don't know – I have my doubts."

As Pakistani forces try to uproot the Taliban from the Swat Valley, hundreds of thousands of civilians have been displaced by the fighting. Pakistan Prime Minister Yousaf Gilani appealed to the international community for help on Thursday as more civilians were forced to flee the area. NBC News' Richard Engel reports.

VIDEO: Taliban showdown triggers humanitarian crisis

The cameras converged on Chinese artist Ai Weiwei as soon as the news broke. 

An official from the Sichuan provincial government announced a final toll for the number of children missing and killed from last year's devastating earthquake: 5,335.

Although authorities have confirmed more than 69,000 people died in the quake – which struck in the middle of a school day on May 12, 2008 – until today they had not released any details about the children who died in thousands of collapsed school buildings.

VIDEO: Chinese artist documents victims of quake

It's a highly sensitive topic here in China, where local officials have been accused of negligence in cases where schools caved in while surrounding buildings remained standing. Authorities have resorted to a harsh crackdown on families of the dead children and the media for trying to report or investigate the story. 

"I'm glad they try to be responsible now," said Ai, attributing it to "the tremendous pressure of the media or the public."

For months, the artist – who helped design the iconic Bird's Nest Stadium featured prominently in the Beijing Olympics – has been contributing to that pressure. 

Searching for answers
Since December, he's been working with a small team of volunteers to document every child lost in the quake, and it's raised his profile even higher. They have collected information on more than 5,200 names so far, and he expects the final number to be much higher than the official toll.

"We have to really re-evaluate the values of life in this society," he said in his studio in Caochangdi outside downtown Beijing. "We never really treat the human life or human rights in the way it should be…The basic public information should always be clearly revealed."

It would appear not everyone agrees. Postings on Ai's popular blog updating the list of names are deleted by censors.  

But he remains unfazed.

"I have [the] rights to express my [opinions] on my blog," he said. 

Adrienne Mong / NBC News

A list of names of young victims from last year's earthquake.

His volunteers have encountered worse. During field expeditions, they have been routinely harassed, searched, and detained, according to Ai, who also notes that parents of the dead children are treated far worse when they try to get to the truth.

And he says the "official" children's death toll announcement will not halt the project's momentum. "It doesn't mean anything to us, because you don't have the related information," Ai said to another journalist on his cell phone. "You don't know who [the victims] are and which school they [lost] their life."

Hoping to use lessons learned from the war in Iraq, the U.S. has launched a new strategy in dealing with the Taliban in by talking to moderate Taliban and peeling them away from hard core jihadis. NBC News' Jim Maceda reports from Afghanistan.

VIDEO: Trying new tactics with the Taliban

Fighting the Taliban now includes a concerted effort to cut the organization's financial lifeline: the illegal drug trade. NBC News' Jim Maceda goes behind the scenes in Afghanistan as a U.S. DEA team carries out drug raids.

VIDEO: DEA on the hunt for Afghan drugs Â

Couples who put their lives on hold amid Iraq's turmoil are rushing to get married and make up for lost time. NBC News' Cheryll Simpson reports.

VIDEO: More couples say 'I do' in Baghdad

Egypt's slaughter of pigs, a move described by the government as an effort to combat swine flu, is inciting riots between the farmers who raise the pigs and police. The World Health Organization and the U.N. say the cull is not necessary.

NBC's Charlene Gubash reports from Cairo.

VIDEO: Egyptian police clash with protesters over slaughter of pigs

By Cheryll Simpson, NBC News Producer

BAGHDAD – Widespread violence is down across Baghdad, but not for one minority group.

Iraq's gay population is being targeted by militia groups in a wave of killings that has claimed the lives of up to 25 young men and boys in the past month.

"They know I am gay. I don't know if I am going to be killed, this is up to God," said Moyad, a 38-year-old Baghdad resident who would not give his last name out of fear for his safety. 

Visibly frightened, he said that he has many friends who have been sadistically tortured, some even murdered.  "They are sticking glue up their anuses; some hospitals refuse to treat them. Is it a war waged against homosexuals?" he asked.

Most of the attacks have happened in Baghdad's Shia neighborhoods, and many believe that religious leaders have used Friday sermons in Sadr City as a platform to incite hatred and violence toward homosexuals. The bodies of three gay men were reported to have been found in Sadr City in April with pieces of paper bearing the word for "pervert" attached to them.

Posters and leaflets have been distributed in the Baghdad neighborhoods of al-Shola, al-Hurya and Sadr City with orders to, "Cleanse Iraq from the crime of homosexuality."

Baghdad police didn't respond to inquiries from NBC News about the attacks, but the surge in violence has gained attention by the international media.  

In a letter to Iraqi President Nouri al-Maliki in April, Amnesty International called for "urgent and concerted action" to stop the killings of men because of their sexual orientation.  

Amnesty International expressed concern at the government's failure to "publicly condemn the killings." It urged the government to make sure that the killings are "promptly and effectively investigated, and to see that the perpetrators are brought to justice." The letter also condemned statements from one senior police officer that,"appear to condone or even encourage the targeting of members of the gay community in Baghdad." An Amnesty spokeswoman said there had not yet been a reply from Iraqi authorities.

Moyad described a recent crusade by vigilantes in which young men were tortured with hoses and shot."For some time I never went out of my house," he said. "I also had the feeling that they would break in and get me."

Noor, a 24-year-old lesbian who also spoke on the condition of anonymity, said it is easier for her to conceal her sexuality, but she is still frightened about the possibility of being exposed – especially knowing that some of her friends were killed by the militias. "They were burned in Kadhimiya, Hurriya Al-Olaa, Hurriya Al-Thaniya, Dolaai and Dabaash."

Moyad believes that many have been killed by their own families in an effort to preserve their honor. "My friend Ahmed, from the neighborhood of Zafaraniya, was killed by his family for looking like a female. Those commandos tell the families to kill them or else they will kill them. I expect that my own brother might lead those guys to kill me."

'Sense of panic'
Ali Hili is a gay Iraqi who fled to London and founded the fledgling U.K.-based organization,"Iraqi LGBT," a human rights organization that supports Iraqi lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transgender people. 

"There is a sense of panic among the youth for fear of retaliation against anyone who is suspected of having a history of being effeminate, anyone with a homosexual past, if you act or dress like one or even have a western hairstyle," said Hili. He said that attacks by the Mahdi Army, a Shiite militia, and its supporters have increased and that death warrants have been sent to individuals.

Hili's organization tries to help gays in Iraq who have come under attack by providing food, electricity, protection, medication and clothing at a safe house in Baghdad. The group also provides phone cards for people to report incidents of harassment, in order to document the situation, often at great risk to their safety in Iraq.

"Many people have nothing but the clothes on their backs, and sometimes not even that, no exaggeration at all here," Hili said of people seeking refuge at the safe house. His organization also tries to help people seeking asylum in other countries.

Moyad said that unfortunately things have actually gotten worse than it was during Saddam's reign things. "I was imprisoned because I was gay, but there was a court, a trial, and the judge let me loose at the time; now they kill people like us."

MEXICO CITY – Above a quiet, languid Mexico City, there is a hint of blue in the center of the sky.  The usual haze, that obscures the view of the mountains and the sun-bleached homes that crawl up into them, is remarkably light.  From a tall building these past two days, the view is stunningly clear.  These are small gifts, for citizens still living through an international scare – and a national shutdown.

VIDEO: Flu fears dissipating in Mexico City

With little to do today around the normally electrified capital, a person can marvel at the prospect of a stroll down silent lanes, hearing single bird chirps, breathing in the clearer air – or a drive without a traffic jam.  It is both refreshing and eerie – a good time for the mind to wander – and then you remember that the cause of this otherworldy calm is quite alarming.  Or at least, it was. 

Though the surgical masks are still everywhere – some light blue, some white, some doubled-up with straps going everywhere, and others with happy smiles drawn on in marker to beat the grim seriousness of it all – that sense of uncertain worry that has hung over Mexico City is finally dissipating along with the smog.

Signs of hope
As you venture out beyond the center of this sprawling city, you see some stores open, too, people selling food on the street, and more citizens braving small crowds.  There are more smiles and conversations. On buses, you even see people without their masks. 

Last night, I was shocked to see some bored-out-of-their-minds staff in our hotel (which, with its 26 floors, now contains less than a dozen guests) pretending to cough on one another as a joke, laughing.  That, I thought, while perhaps in poor taste to some, was a sure sign that they were certainly not worried – at least, not with one another.

At the same time, workers are disinfecting the subway system in preparation for things potentially going back to "normal" on Tuesday.

We sat down with Health Secretary Jose Angel Cordova, and he wanted to convey confidence.  It is too early to say the threat has passed – and remember, there are still new cases of flu developing here – but "contained" is the word they are going with, to package the fact that the numbers of both deaths and suspected cases of swine flu are dropping.

'The outbreak is controlled'
"This is stabilizing," he told us. "The outbreak is controlled. I think so, because most of the measures we have done are having results, and we are making all the necessary efforts to give safety and health to our citizens. Many of the measures we put in place, like closing schools, are working well because really we have less cases now."

He also told us that more than three-quarters of the originally suspected cases of H1N1 flu turned out not to be that virus at all, but just the seasonal flu.  He said even some of the deaths, at least seven or eight so far – tested negative. They were cases of pneumonia, yes, but not H1N1.

So, did this indeed originate from Mexico? Still unclear. And though many people who visited here from around the world became ill later, Cordova says since there were also very early cases confirmed in California, it is possible that it came from the border region, maybe even from the United States. Still, a difficult circumstance to pinpoint. 

Interestingly, when we brought up the point that in the town of La Gloria, in Veracruz state, where about half the town had been complaining of severe flu as early as February, and where citizens told us that two babies died from flu, the secretary says there was no record of those deaths. Why? Unknown. Might those have been the earliest cases?

Cordova says even if there were, for some reason, undocumented deaths there, there was a good chance they were not H1N1. He told us that when they tested dozens of people in La Gloria later, only one person tested positive. All the others had only regular flu.  And the person who did have H1N1, a little boy named Edgar Hernandez, developed it much later than the rest of the town was ill.

What we do know now is that Mexican officials say the number of new cases is diminishing rapidly.

Calm sets in
We took a drive out past the slow-motion neighborhoods to the National Institute of Respiratory Illnesses, where the most serious cases are being treated.  We were granted unusual access inside.  Security was extremely tight, as expected.  But as we entered the landscaped grounds of the impressive old facility, our guides were relaxed.  They were not wearing masks outdoors and seemed relieved to give us the news that it was a quiet day.

A day earlier, they saw only two new cases come in. Yesterday, only one. 

Dr. Alejandra Ramirez, the chief doctor over the pneumonia ward, was tired, but had time to sit with us and tell us things were improving. Now, she says, people are coming in much sooner than they did when this all started.  They are being treated immediately with antiviral drugs, and she says they improve quickly.

The biggest challenge?  Helping the staff feel comfortable treating the patients.  In the entire hospital system, she told us, approximately 15 healthcare workers had come down with the flu themselves. Now, though, she said, there was a sense of confidence that this thing was absolutely beatable if caught early. Everywhere we looked, floors were being scrubbed and hands being washed. Staffers were nearly covered from head to toe in protective gear. The place has a sense of simplicity and history, with its old marble floors and wooden IV stands, but now a fully modern sense of urgency and preparedness at this point.  It smelled of antiseptic. We could not even stand in the hallway without having to slip on gowns and masks. And even then, they watched our movements closely.

The doctor told us that while the hospital was taken by surprise by this flu, it was now fully equipped to keep fighting it, if necessary. But quickly added the hope that this was, indeed, coming to a end, if not already over. 

She had personally seen the horror of such young people – all between the ages of 21 and 40 – lose their intense battles with the invisible enemy that had invaded from nowhere.

A survivor's story
This is the main battle zone, and people are still in intensive care.  But it was quieter today.  To the staff here, that feels almost exciting.

And one man was going home.

Forty-year-old Gavrilencio Sanchez had fought pneumonia here for five days, his full lungs barely allowing him a breath.  Briefly, he said, he was scared for his life, scared to be without his family. But almost immediately, he started to feel better with treatment. And now, he said he felt fine. Not even a cough. He stands steadily in the dim, cool hallway. 

"Thank God," his wife told us at his side, smiling beneath her mask. Her hands were full of prescriptions provided by doctors. She had not been ill herself and was thrilled to be bringing him home. 

A survivor.  He had made it.

And after receiving several minutes worth of careful instructions from the doctor who oversaw his care, they walked out into the sunshine.  Into a city that is recovering, from both illness – and fear.

PUEBLA, MEXICO –  It's difficult to spot any evidence folks here are concerned about the swine flu.

 HONG KONG – To Dr. Danny Tong, it's a war.

He talks about "peace time" and "war time," meaning the period before an outbreak, and the time after it hits. The "war cabinet" is how he refers to the conference room where top health officials meet to plan the battles ahead.

"Most of the doctors here lived through the SARS outbreak. We really do see it in terms of warfare," he told me.

VIDEO: Hong Kong learns lesson of SARS

Tong is the Senior Nursing Officer at Princess Margaret Hospital in Hong Kong, overseeing a specialist isolation center that will receive the first victims of swine flu in the former British territory.

"SARS made us tough," he said. "We are ready."

On Friday, Hong Kong announced that the territory detected its first case of the flu, Asia's first confirmed instance of the disease.

Lesson learned
Hong Kong wasn't always as prepared. When Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS) hit Hong Kong in 2003, the government's initial reaction to the mystery respiratory disease was slow and confused.

The city was soon gripped by fear. Few people traveled, business ground to a halt, and one of the world's most open and international cities was virtually quarantined. Of the nearly 800 people who died worldwide, almost a third of them were in Hong Kong – and many of them were health workers.

"That was a painful time for us," said Dr. York Chow, Secretary for Food and Health, who headed one of the main hospitals at that time. "It taught us we must stay alert all the time. We can't be complacent. We'd rather do more than less."

Hong Kong never removed the thermal scanners it set up at the airport in 2003, though they have now been bolstered. Any traveler arriving with a fever from an infected area will be detained in a hospital until given the all clear.

Since the weekend, thousands of health workers have been mobilized and have attended crash courses on swine flu. The city's huge stockpile of anti-viral drugs – 20 million doses at the last count – is being dusted off. Isolation beds are also being readied –1,400 of them across Hong Kong.

'Systems ready'
Princess Margaret is the front-line hospital with its own isolation unit, sealed and pressurized to control the flow of air. Even the ambulances that would bring the sick have "docking units" at the hospital to avoid any outside contamination.

"The systems are ready, we know what to do, but as things change we shall fine-tune our actions," said Dr. Seto Wing Hong, the Chief Infection Control Officer for Hong Kong's hospitals.

"We don't want to over-plan," he said. "Nature is more unpredictable and more volatile than the stock market." 

The authorities hope the disease can be contained, but if the outbreak were to spread, there are contingency plans to close schools and use summer camps as quarantine centers. Under new emergency laws, they can seize private buildings and arrest anybody obstructing health officials.

Hong Kong has also fought avian flu on and off over the years – which has given it more valuable experience. Most of the avian flu viruses – as well as SARS – originated in southern China, where there is close proximity between animals and people, particularly chickens and pigs. It had been thought by many scientists that the next pandemic would originate there.

Simple strides: hand sanitizers
While the isolation units are brimming with technology, Seto says the biggest breakthrough since 2003 is the widespread availability of alcohol-based hand sanitizers.

"Swine flu isn't airborne," he said, brandishing a plastic bottle of hand sanitizer. "It's something as simple as this which can make the most difference."

The other big lesson the authorities have learned is to be open and transparent with the public, to provide fullest information as early as possible.

"But we mustn't panic or overreact," said Dr. Chow Chun-bong, the medical director of Princess Margaret Hospital's Infectious Disease Center. "That may divert our resources to areas that are not important."

As one of the world's most crowded, open and international cities, Hong Kong knows it is especially vulnerable, but its battle-hardened doctors feel they are about as ready as they will ever be.

Click here for complete coverage of the swine flu outbreak