TOKYO, Japan — Shoichi Nakagawa burst onto the global stage in an embarrassing, and memorable way. He appeared to be drunk at the G7 news conference in Rome, Italy, falling asleep as reporters questioned the world leaders. He apologized for his behavior, but denied it was the result of heavy drinking.

A man delivers flowers to Nakagawa’s home.

But that behavior led to his resignation as finance minister and multiple jokes told through Japan, including a downloadable mobile phone game where players win by keeping the apparently drunk finance minister awake.

That may have been a shocking event to world viewers, but in Japan, what followed in the election was far more stunning. Nakagawa lost in the August 30 general election, marking the collapse of what had been dubbed the “Nakagawa Kingdom.” That name came from the strong electoral power base built by his father. Supporters cried in Nakagawa’s arms on election night and pledged to fight in the next election. Nakagawa appeared calm and respectful.

But privately, former Chief Cabinet Secretary Takeo Kawamura surmised the loss was far more shocking. Kawamura, to reporters in Tokyo, said Nakagawa may have been both physically and mentally exhausted due to the shock of losing in the election.

Police have no ruling yet on the cause of Nakagawa’s death. But at age 56, he is one year younger than his father was when he died. Nakagawa himself entered politics after his father’s death, which was ruled a suicide.

As word spread through Tokyo, old political friends lined up outside Nakagawa’s home to mark the sad passing. To them, Nakagawa still had a future with domestic politics, but both that and his life were cut short before their time.

HONG KONG, China – Details of Sarah Palin's trip to Hong Kong - in what is being billed as her first speech outside North America - have been kept under wraps.

When I interviewed a spokeswoman for the event she will speak at, the 16th CLSA Investors' Forum, she said she didn't know when Palin would land in Hong Kong or when she would leave, and the former Republican vice presidential candidate's keynote address would be closed to the media.

Contacts put me in touch with people attending the speech, and I asked if I could interview them afterward about what Palin said: They both declined, though one was open to it if it was off the record.

CLSA head of communications Simone Wheeler told me: "She (Palin) has chosen to come here to speak to our clients on the condition that it would be closed to media so she could therefore have a candid conversation with investors as opposed to using this as a PR trip to promote herself globally."

She had earlier said: “She is coming to present to our investors, not to seek publicity. I think she really understands the value of presenting to a room of 1,000 global fund managers who really can influence the markets. We are really glad that she sees the value of that and that she’s not using this as a publicity-seeking exercise.”

I wondered, “Why the secrecy?” What do you think?

GREENOCK, Scotland – Embarking on our trip to Scotland early Monday morning to cover the potential release of the only man ever to be convicted for the 1988 Lockerbie bombing, we thought we would return to London barely 24 hours later.

Three days later, we remain here, in Greenock, a small town on the west coast of Scotland, a town which for the last four years, Abdelbaset Ali Mohmed al Megrahi has had to call "home."

In that time, we've visited Lockerbie. We're seen the garden memorial which has replaced the huge crater left by the flaming fuselage when it fell from the sky, it in turn, replacing the homes that had stood there and the families who had lived in them.

We've heard from eyewitnesses and emergency workers who cannot forget what they saw, even over 20 years later. We've heard conspiracy theories from local politicians who have blamed Iran, the Palestinians and the U.S.

We've even heard from relatives of the dead who really believe that the Scottish justice system has got it wrong and that Megrahi is an innocent man.

As we file more reports and speak to more involved parties, this case seems to get murkier and ever more confusing and my thoughts begin to lie with the one man who now has to decide the fate of the Libyan.

Kenny MacAskill, Scotland's Justice Secretary, has been given the sole responsibility of determining the fate of the terminally ill Meghari.

The Scottish Parliament has said that it doesn't need to be involved. Scotland's First Minister Alex Salmond has said that he trusts whichever decision MacAskill will take.

Supportive words, but hardly conducive for a man who needs to weigh up years of evidence, appeals, medical advice and family statements.

Since we came to Scotland, political heavyweights such as U.S. Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton, Senators Edward Kennedy and John Kerry have weighed into the debate, urging MacAskill not to allow Meghari to go free.

The Justice Secretary hasn't even been able to count on the support of his own colleagues with the Scottish Secretary, Jim Murphy, yesterday slamming the ongoing situation as "embarrassing."

And so as we wait, busying ourselves collecting our elements and watching the news wires for updates, I feel rather sorry for the beleaguered Scottish politician who must be now sitting in his office, pouring over reams of material and trying to work out the right thing to do.

HONG KONG, China – It's the eve of former South Korean President Roh Moo-hyun's funeral and, even though I am sitting in the CNN newsroom in Hong Kong, I can't help but feel melancholic.

President Roh never quite fit the mould of a president. He was an everyday man who altered the authoritarian bent of the job.

I don't live in Korea, but I am Korean-American and have a strong affinity or attachment - "jeong" in Korean - to the country.

I interviewed President Roh while he was on the campaign trail ahead of his election in 2002. I remember how approachable and hopeful he was and how different his demeanor was compared to previous presidential candidates.

He was a human rights lawyer who had passed the rigorous bar exam by studying on his own. He despised the abuse of workers and, in his estimate, fought for the little guy. But because of that, to me, his suicide is even more tragic.

Korean society, though changing, is highly goal-oriented and can oftentimes, I think, be unforgiving for those who don't quite fit the accepted social norms. People have to go to the right school, get the right job, marry the right person. The university system doesn't allow for late bloomers. And though events such as the Asian financial crisis have challenged those expectations, in Korea, as one of my friends always tells me, conformity is a virtue.

President Roh never quite fit the mould of a president. He was an everyday man who altered the authoritarian bent of the job. Many people appreciated his different approach. However, my fear now is the message his suicide sends to young people struggling to find their own way in a nation where calling a psychologist is still seen as a weakness.

I think fondly of my meeting with President Roh and can only imagine his agony as he stood on that cliff. President Roh was unable to fight his demons. Please don't succumb to yours.

HONG KONG, China - I called a fund manager in Seoul today to get his take on the nuclear test in North Korea.

"There was a nuclear test?" he asked me, half-jokingly.

He was at lunch where he said everyone was talking about the suicide of former South Korean president Roh Moo-hyun. No word on the secretive neighbor to the North.

I know it seems unbelievable to people outside of the country, but South Koreans have grown largely immune to North Korea's threats - even a nuclear test. They have been living with the fear of North Korea for decades and have what my colleague Andrew Stevens calls "North Korea fatigue." Pyongyang's sharp rhetoric is discounted in the streets of Seoul as well as in the nation's financial markets, which after falling initially on the shock, bounced back by the end of the trading day.

South Koreans are more concerned today about the political rift that is forming as a result of Roh's death. The ex-president, known as an average Joe with integrity, killed himself in the face of a corruption scandal. His supporters blame the conservative administration of Lee Myung-bak for Roh's death, saying prosecutors went too far. Riot police have gathered in Seoul's city center in anticipation of protests.

The concern now is how Lee, nicknamed the Bulldozer, will bridge the political divide and keep the nation united at a time when the economy is fragile.

Even by the standards of Silvio Berlusconi’s epic life, it was an extraordinary week.

Silvio Berlusconi says the Italian people are behind him.

Italian newspapers were burning with gossip about how his relationship with an 18-year-old family friend was leading to his divorce, an Italian judge ruled that he had bribed his British tax lawyer and Berlusconi called his country’s immigrant detentions centres ‘concentration camps.'

“Really, he wants to talk to CNN this week?” That was my reaction to our producer, Gisella Deputato. For months she’s been working hard to secure a sit-down interview with Berlusconi where he could be more personal and reflective.

And so the date was set, well sort of. First it was Thursday, then Friday morning, then Friday afternoon.

Ok, we’re set, or so we thought. A couple of hours before the interview was to start, one of Berlusconi’s aides called to say the whole thing was off. Off? Did he get a hold of himself and think maybe it wasn't such a good time to speak to CNN? No, they told us, his neck had seized on him. Watch Paula Newton's interview with Berlusconi

So, the interview was thankfully rescheduled for Saturday morning. We arrived at Palazzo Grazioli, his official residence in Rome. The Palace is stately and filled with antiques but quite impersonal despite the dozens of personal photos on tables and desks.

Berlusconi was clearly in a bit of discomfort but was above all gracious. The interview lasted more than an hour and although there were some tough question about the corruption scandal, immigration and his private life, to my surprise the more revealing answers came from the more personal questions.

I was truly shocked to hear how much he thought his job was now a burden to him and the fact that he truly believed his gaffes were a creation of the media.

On and on he went, rallying against the Italian left and the evil newspapers who he said continue to print lies about him.

But it was still interesting to see a glimpse of the leader who seems to steal the show at every summit or meeting with his demeanour. He openly admits he tries to crack jokes during all his political gatherings just to try and cut the tension. But, he assured me, the jokes are always on him.

And so there he was, telling me a jokes. My favourite was about one of his first meetings with former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. He told her he wasn’t sleeping well at night because he was reading the next day’s papers before he went to bed and they were upsetting him. Thatcher told him that was his first mistake, she only read the favorable articles and slept fine.

Berlusconi then tells me he returned to Rome determined to follow Thatcher’s strategy and told his staff to bring him only favourable articles. With perfect comic timing he pauses and says: “I didn’t see them for two months."

Berlusconi did at times seem obsessed, even downright paranoid about the criticism from the newspapers, the opposition and the country’s judges. It reflects his long-held belief that they are all out to get him.

Still, the interview was much more revealing than I thought it would be and Berlusconi put on the record that politically he believes he has never been more powerful. Despite all the scandal and criticism, Berlusconi pointed out that he has never been more popular with the Italian people.

To his critics dismay, in Italy Berlusconi is still the life of the party.

JERUSALEM - The question of whether Pope Benedict XVI would dare enter the minefield of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict was answered within minutes of him touching down in Tel Aviv.

Pope Benedict XVI walks in Jerusalem with the Western Wall's chief Rabbi at Judaism's holiest prayer site.

He indeed dared, calling for a Palestinian homeland. Not using the political phrase "two-state solution" - he's a pilgrim not a politician - but saying "a homeland of their own, within secure and internationally recognised borders." Welcome news to Palestinian Christians, but they're a tiny minority. Many Palestinians wonder what difference a spiritual leader can make if leaders of the United States and much of the international community haven't managed to accomplish much yet.

A sobering visit to the Yad Vashem Holocaust memorial site, a must for visiting dignitaries to honor the victims of the Holocaust. Some disappointment from the chairman of Yad Vashem that the pontiff did not condemn the Nazis more strongly. Pope Benedict comes to the Holy Land with historical baggage having been in the Hitler Youth movement as was obligatory at the time of him growing up in Nazi Germany. But his first speech included strong unequivocal condemnation of anti-Semitism in any form or any place.

The tone of his first day in Israel has been one of working together for peace. He reminded religious leaders that they all worship the same God and they should focus on what unites and not what divides them.

But on Monday evening he was briskly reminded of the political minefield he is currently visiting. At the interfaith meeting in Jerusalem, Sheikh Tayssir al-Tamimi, chief justice of the Palestinian Islamic court, delivered a spontaneous six-minute speech calling on Muslims and Christians to unite against what he called "the murderous Israelis."

Here was proof Pope Benedict really is following in his predecessor's footsteps: Pope John Paul II listened to a similar speech by the same sheikh during his visit to the holy land nine years ago.

The pre-dawn streets of Pretoria are filled with flashing blue lights and police sirens as the city prepares for Jacob Zuma's presidential inauguration.

On our bus's TV, a Bollywood actress is rolling across an emerald lawn to a love song. Her performance is apparently being screened to entertain its usual passengers – the Indian Premier League cricketers playing their matches in South Africa instead of back home.

Today, however, the bus is filled with sleepy journalists on their way to the Union Buildings and our wait for the presidential ceremony to begin.

We are dropped off in the darkness 3km from where we are supposed to be. 

"Why?" we ask.  The officials and police shrug their shoulders. 

It is our first indication of how the day will be. 

We lug our heavy equipment across the lawns and up on to the scaffold far away from the main proceedings.  Shortly after we set up the rain starts to thunder down.

No one had thought to provide a roof for the camera crews and their equipment, so it was impossible to broadcast  because of the risk. 

Our only consolation was that the VIPs in the amphitheatre of the Union Buildings were also getting drenched as they tried to huddle together under umbrellas.

Finally, though, the sun comes out, we dry our equipment and the heads of state arrive.

Cheers from the damp but enthusiastic crowd greet Muammar Gaddafi, Robert Mugabe and the North Korean representative. 

A frail, but dignified Nelson Mandela is cheered every time his image appears on the large screens set up for the crowds.

The man who followed him as the country's leader, Thabo Mbeki, is booed with a deep angry roar. 

And then, the man himself arrives; the cheers are defeaning. Jacob Zuma is their hero. The man they came to see.

He takes the oath and the crowd goes wild as the planes from the now traditional fly-past roar overhead.

President Zuma’s speech is dignified and reconciliatory. 

He speaks of wanting to re-invigorate South African society with the values of the Mandela era.  He also speaks highly of Mbeki, his arch-rival in a battle for political power which lasted seven years. 

Zuma, the victor, then descends to the lawn where his people are gathered.

There is not a single white South African in the crowd, which is  made up almost entirely of the black poor - the power behind Zuma.  They believe he will change their lives for the better. 

He did not sing his trademark anthem ‘Umshini Wam’ or ‘Bring me my machine gun.’  He is president now, no longer a revolutionary.

NEW DELHI, India — Covering political rallies in India is never peachy. The weather is gruesome, the wait is long, the music is blaring at its cacophonous best and as we experienced today, there is the chance of being caught in the midst of an excited crowd. Today’s political rally in India’s capital, New Delhi, was addressed by one of India’s most recognized youth politicians, Rahul Gandhi. 

Enthusiasm grips a crowd at a political rally in New Delhi.

Often touted as the prime minister in waiting, the young Gandhi scion swooped down in a helicopter to adoring fans, more than an hour behind his scheduled appearance. As he approached the venue, a party member encouraged the masses to keep shouting slogans. And the masses complied. When Rahul got onto the stage there was welcoming applause. I saw some familiar faces from the other rallies as they screamed and waved toward the stage. 

When Rahul starts speaking, most of the folks in the VIP section climb on top of their chairs and listen, laughing when he says a joke or clapping when he points out why his party is best suited to lead the nation. 

When the 5pm deadline approaches (the public campaign has to end at 5 p.m., Tuesday, ahead of Thursday’s phase four of India’s polls) the crowd starts surging forward. Our cameraman, Sanjiv Talreja, and I make our way to the exit as the podium goes quiet. Little did we expect to be squashed, shoved and pushed. In an effort to catch a glimpse of Rahul taking off on the helicopter, the crowd surged forward and many people rushed toward the same exit that we took. I almost lost the ladder that I was carrying and held on with all my might to the battery bag. Sanjiv, who was carrying both the camera and the tripod, was more or less knocked over. We both managed to get out without a bruise and heaved a sigh of relief! 

As we left the grounds, we could see hundreds of people standing across the open ground watching skyward. As Rahul’s chopper took to the skies, people waved enthusiastically. 

Campaigning in India is never short of drama and the colors, songs, dances and speeches are all vibrant. And no matter how often you attend a rally, there is always some new quirk to take you by surprise.

NEW DELHI, India - India's capital is sweltering and so is the rest of the country. The oppressive heat wave felt across India has sent temperatures soaring well beyond 43 degrees Celsius (110 degrees Fahrenheit) in many parts of the country.

In the midst of this brutally hot weather we have been out covering political rallies.

CNN correspondent Sara Sidner gulps down water during a sweltering rally.

The latest one began at three in the afternoon, the absolute hottest part of the day. One would think this is a bad time to hold a rally but India is right in the middle of a general election.

Elections here take place once every five years. So no matter when rallies are held they are a huge draw, as people attempt to catch their favorite candidate in action.

Inevitably the politicians arrive late, which means we spend even longer at the mercy of the sun. "Under the sun," might sound very romantic for a movie title but let me tell you it’s anything but romantic in this context.

Lugging around heavy equipment, the crew sweats so much it feels like there's no liquid left in our bodies. Between the long wait for the candidate and the quest for the right shot, it is something of a small miracle that none of us have had heat stroke. Luckily water is handed out periodically.

The odd thing is the crowd seems immune to the heat. When the music plays, ladies in colorful saris dance with genuine enthusiasm. The men chant, push and shove to try and get a closer look.

Meanwhile the electric fans set up all along the huge field are not turned on and no one is complaining – well almost no one.