HONG KONG, China - The H1N1 virus hits home - figuratively.

With her preschool classes cancelled, Mandy Yuen's daughter enjoys a day at Disneyland.

This time in the form of an unexpected forced vacation for all kids in Hong Kong under the age of 12. The kids are ecstatic. The parents ... not so much. On Thursday parents were told all nursery, kindergarten and primary schools are closed for at least two weeks. The reason: 12 students at St. Paul Convent School in Causeway Bay district came down with confirmed cases of the H1N1 virus.

"Help!!!"

That was the collective cry from parents all over Hong Kong as more than 500,000 children found themselves with free time. The school year normally doesn't end until July, and suddenly here is a two-week hole to fill. On Monday I decided to hit the streets to find out how parents are getting along. My crew and I headed to the street markets in Quarry Bay at lunchtime. We found mothers towing their kids behind, as they shopped for fresh vegetables.

Ann Chan was wearing a face mask (very common in polluted Hong Kong) as she picked through a bin of yams. Her 6-year-old young daughter Nivia stood next to her in a pink dress and pigtails, also wearing a mask. When asked about the school closure, Amy Chan said, "Yes, it's inconvenient. I have to use all my time to take care of her and have her tag along whenever I go out."

Daughter Nivia said sweetly through her mask, " I feel really happy, I can stay home and play. I'm going to do some drawings." We talked to a few parents who said they had taken time off from work to take care of their kids.

Then we headed to Hong Kong Disneyland. In a brilliant PR but debatable public safety move, Disneyland jumped on the school closures as a business opportunity. Immediately after the closures were announced, Hong Kong Disneyland offered a promotion targeting the children of the affected schools. For 250 Hong Kong dollars ($32 US), kids can come to Disneyland as many times as they want for the month of June. The children need to show their school ID, proving they attend one of the closed schools, and parents pay the regular entrance fee. Disneyland was heavily criticized by the Hong Kong government which charged that the promotion defeats the purpose of the school closures. The whole point was to discourage big gatherings of children to prevent possible contamination.

Disneyland responded with this statement:

"Hong Kong Disneyland is a family destination and it is up to parents to decide the best time for their children to visit the Park. The safety and security of our Guests and Cast Members is our top priority and we will continue to uphold stringent hygiene levels throughout the Resort, including the addition of extra-thorough and frequent cleaning and the sterilization of our facilities."

On a Monday afternoon, we found a good amount of Hong Kong parents with their energetic kids. Most parents said they were not too worried about the crowds because Disneyland's layout has more open space than the city. One mom said, "I think Disneyland is quite a good place to go compared to just staying in the shopping malls where the air is always trapped inside. Here it's more open and spacious." Nonetheless, many parents made sure their little Mickey Mouse fans were wearing face masks even in the stifling humidity.

The kids are breezing through this two-week homework assignment.

Let's see what grade the parents get!

Watch my story of children tagging along with their parents due to the closure or schools.

HONG KONG, China - Most people would welcome an extended vacation. Sounds like a bonus, right? Not here at the Metropark Hotel in Hong Kong's Wanchai district. More than 300 guests and staff have been under forced quarantine since last Friday - a full 7 days.

A guest peers through a lobby window of the quarantined Metropark Hotel in Hong Kong on Wednesday.

This is because a Mexican tourist who was later found to have the contagious H1N1flu virus had checked into that hotel. Suddenly plans change. Flights need to be canceled. Shopping trips never happen. Business meetings get missed.

Sure, it's a nice 4-star hotel in the middle of bustling Hong Kong. But the tables are turned: These guests are on the inside longingly looking out.

Today, they finally made it to Day 7.

I am standing outside the hotel, taking in the scene from the sidewalk. On the fourth floor, a man and a woman hang a banner (I'm assuming a hotel bed sheet) that reads: "Greetings to Germany. Hours left: 8, 7, 6, 5 ..." The number 8 has been crossed off.

Less than 8 hours before they can walk out of this building and back to their regular lives.

It's interesting to hear about the different levels of tolerance, and I suppose the anecdotes say something about people's thresholds for sudden change.

This week I spoke with different quarantined guests via Skype. One British citizen complained of the sorry gifts his consulate sent him to pass the time (e.g. worn-out books and magazines from 2007). Meanwhile, a Frenchman who celebrated his 43rd birthday this week under quarantine received a nice bottle of champagne from the French consulate. He had a party on his floor.

A man from Singapore told me he was getting a lot of work done on his laptop and was using his time productively. He did point out that everyone was given a daily supply of Tamiflu, but no health officials checked to see if each guest actually took the Tamiflu.

I personally don't know what I would do if I were quarantined for 7 days. I would surely want my laptop, internet service and some sort of reading. As our producer, Tim Schwarz, says, "It would be a great opportunity to catch up on sleep." But that's coming from those of us on the outside looking in.

I kept hearing from public figures that they had plans in place for a flu pandemic, but I wanted to see for myself.

I contacted Westminster City Council, which has legal responsibility for emergency planning in central London, and asked what they could show me.

They invited me into their Emergency Control Center which is housed in a rather non-descript public building – the exact location of which I cannot reveal.

I was directed to the back entrance via the trash cans. I was taken up in a lift, past a bank of security cameras and into windowless room that looked a bit like a computer training center.

I waited there until I was asked what I would like to do. Then I realised this WAS the Emergency Control Center. OK.

My guide was the John Barradell, the council's deputy chief executive who is also a former senior police officer and one of the country's most experienced people when it comes to emergency planning.

He explained that planning for a crisis is not nearly as exciting as we are led to believe.

It was also made clear to me that everything you needed to run London in a crisis was in this room, and you could do it all from just one of these computer terminals.

I was shown a list of folders on a monitor which gives you access to every system used to run the capital.

You could tap into the hospital network, the police, social services – health and safety.

If you made a decision in this room you could make it happen on the ground at the click of a mouse.

The control room was located next to the office for Street Services, and that is no accident.

The systems that control parking for example would be crucial in a pandemic.

The parking team have people on the ground throughout the capital in the form of traffic wardens.

They also have one of the world’s most extensive networks of street cameras at their disposal.

If there was a flu pandemic, Street Services becomes the eyes and the ears for emergency co-ordinators in one of the busiest and biggest cities in Europe.

It was a fascinating insight into the preparedness of London for a possible pandemic. The systems are all in place, but not quite in the form you would expect to see in a Hollywood movie.

HONG KONG, China– This week I participated in "a run" on hand sanitizers in Hong Kong. On my way home, I stopped by two drug stores and found none. At the third store I found my prize - about 20 small tubes on one shelf. I picked up one tube, paused for a moment, and picked up a second. Then a third.

A government cleaner takes part in a precautionary clean up in Hong Kong on April 30.

There. I had just made a run on hand sanitizers. No panic, no throwing of elbows, just a causal sense of "better get it while I can."

Six years ago, when SARS was terrorizing the city, the scene was far different. The fear was palpable as, for a time, we radically changed the way we lived.

My old employer, The Wall Street Journal Asia, sent us all to work on the story from home. For the first six weeks, what we learned seemed to only heighten our fears. The media attacked the story as if our lives depended on it - which wasn’t far from how it felt.

What we reported was only a sliver of what we researched. Rumors spread faster than the disease. There was word that SARS had now hit the small island I lived on, Lamma (unfounded). As an April 1 prank, a teenager posted online a false report that Hong Kong was shutting down its air and sea space. Religious emails made the rounds citing biblical prophecies of pestilence.

The panic cut across class. There were runs on supermarkets, for people who holed up at home, and runs on private jet rentals, as the rich tried to take flight. Crowded streets thinned; taxis sat idle. Every sneeze or cough garnered startled looks and nervous jokes. I went to a weekend movie to find the theater nearly deserted. When I choked on my soft drink, four moviegoers seated behind me moved to the other side of the theater. Strange days.

Now strange days are here again. The same stories ("Will masks help keep me well?") the same answers ("No –- but if you’re sick, they could help stop the spread") and the same result (face mask sales through the roof). Masks are more a prophylactic against fear, because the best prevention for SARS then –- and the influenza outbreak now – is the same common-sense advice. Avoid large public gatherings. Thoroughly wash, especially your hands. Stay at home if you’re sick. Otherwise, stay well through healthy food, exercise and rest.

Still, it's weird digging through my Rolodex to call the same sources. I hear the same complaints about media overkill and watch as, once again, people hang on every development.

Bu there's one thing that isn’t the same. The sense of panic in Hong Kong is gone.

Our proximity to the outbreak plays a part. We are used to our status as a citadel standing on the hinterlands of disease –- how surprised we are to see this outbreak make a rearguard attack in the backyard of the U.S. Yet it seems the experience of SARS has immunized Hong Kong from irrational fear.

In a "butterfly-flaps-its-wings way," SARS forever changed my life. Working from home during that outbreak, I began socializing with musicians on Lamma Island and we formed a band. After a gig in 2004, a woman asked me out. A few years later, she became my wife. Nine months ago our son, Jonah, was born.

He is the reason I stocked up on hand sanitizers this week.

There's a thin line between paranoia and preparedness. But thanks to the experience of SARS, Hong Kong residents know where that line is drawn.

MEXICO CITY, Mexico – Sunday morning outside the Metropolitan Cathedral a sign reads "NO MISAS" - no mass.

The plaza outside the cathedral is virtually empty, the normal large Sunday crowd of tourists and worshippers seem to be following the advice of government officials, to avoid large crowds.

Police outside a Mexico City cathedral trying to keep worshippers away on Sunday.

We met Carla Casas, a woman who appeared to be in her mid-20s. Carla was scheduled to be confirmed at the 8am mass. She showed up wearing a mask and told us she's very afraid that she and her family could get sick.

"I heard that people are dying 48 hours after getting sick. I'm very concerned" she told us.

Carla also said she thought the "swine flu" originated from the United States. We've heard the same story from several other people who say they heard that from the Mexican media.

Not everyone we've talked to is scared of getting sick.

One young man, a university student, said he thinks the government is going too far by closing schools and other events.

Across the city, police and members of the Mexican army are handing out masks to people on the streets. There is a clear sense of tension here as people wait to see what happens.