TOKYO, Japan – When Hideki Matsui lifted up the trophy for the World Series Most Valuable Player (MVP) award, it was a moment felt deeply by Masanori Murakami. Murakami was the first Japanese player brought in to play for the San Francisco Giants in 1964.

Hideki Matsui celebrates with the World Series MVP trophy at Yankee Stadium on November 4, 2009.

He wasn't just the first Japanese, he was also the first Asian to enter the American sport. This was before Japan's emergence on the global stage and less than 20 years after World War II.

Murakami didn't have the million dollar contracts, the interpreters or the kind crowds. "I envy those young players," Murakami said. "It was much tougher for me. I faced a lot of discrimination."

That is an understatement. Murakami, ever polite and humble as an elder Japanese gentleman, doesn't like to talk about those fearful times, when he was badgered on the San Francisco Giants bus by his own teammates.

The public was even worse - the FBI was alerted due to death threats against Murakami and his manager.

Forty-five years later, Matsui is a national hero, both in Japan and in the U.S. He's joined by Major League Baseball giants Daisuke Matsuzaka and Ichiro Suzuki.

"Japan and the U.S. are like brothers now," Murakami said. These brothers now toast their new hero and celebrate his accomplishment in the World Series. But for Murakami, it's beyond celebration. It is a triumph.

TOKYO, Japan - There’s nothing like buzz to get your product selling, especially in Tokyo.

The Japanese love what’s hot, hip and new. Microsoft, launching Windows 7 after a troubled reception here for Vista, decided to pair up with Burger King for some cross promotion.

Burger King, for its part, could use some buzz itself. The king of whoppers has a fraction of the market share and revenue that McDonald’s boasts. McDonald’s, in the recession and slow recovery in Japan, has seen record profit levels as frugal diners lean to the US$1 menu.

Hence, the Windows 7 Whopper was born. It’s really just a whopper with seven patties. Yes, 7.

For one week, the Windows 7 Whopper is available at all of Japan’s Burger Kings for the low price of 777 yen, equivalent to about US$9.

That’s a heck of a deal for beef in Japan, which is usually much more expensive. But like any good promotion, only a limited few get to partake of the gut bomb.

Every day this week, the first 30 diners at every Burger King gets the deal. After that, you have to pay double for the Windows 7 Whopper.

In the Kanda neighborhood in Tokyo, the manager tells me the first 30 burgers sold out in two hours. But I still managed to meet two guys who decided to pay double just to partake of the promotional event. They ate, and ate, and ate. One man finished - the other cried uncle.

I couldn’t resist: I had to try it. I ate, and ate, and ate. I found out mid-monster-burger that I’d be eating approximately 2100 calories, more than I usually eat in one full day. I’ve won hot dog and ice cream eating contests, but this looked like a task too tough to finish. But as my cameraman disparaged my eating abilities, I trudged on and polished it off.

Will the publicity stunt work? Hard to say. The buzz got our cameras there and my guard down long enough to eat one monster burger. But as Microsoft’s much hyped Vista proved, there has to be follow through for buzz to translate into customer satisfaction.

SEOUL, South Korea - One look at young fashion designer Ha Sang Beg and you know what he's about: Color, comfort and couture. But you have to talk to him before you understand what makes him different from his predecessors: His address.

Designer Ha Sang Beg hopes his designs will go global.

"I choose Korea as my headquarter," says Ha, his second language of English draped with a British lilt from his years studying in the UK. "I'm Korean and I feel comfortable in Korea. There is lot of merit in Korea."

He's not alone. Flip through the latest fashion magazines and you'll find a new breed of designers, who are attempting to make a global mark from Seoul.

"That's exciting to see," says Vogue Korea's Kwangho Shin. Shin says young talent used to leave Seoul and work from established fashion cities like London or New York. But this generation feels differently about their home country and the possibility of success from home.

"It concerns me as to how long it will last," says Shin. "Our challenge is digging up new talent and supporting their skills."

Seoul has focused on developing its automotive and high tech sector, and more recently, green technology. But fashion has been the forte of neighbors Tokyo and Hong Kong, who have more successfully built the business ties with the global fashion world. Shin says if Korea wants to keep up and coming talent like Beg at home, it needs to offer more.

Korea's government, trying to do that, named the fashion industry as one of the six new-growth power industries for the country, calling its goal the globalization of Seoul fashion. In this week's Seoul Fashion Week, the government worked with the industry to create not just a show, but a business event with the goal of becoming "World Fashion City, Seoul."

Ha hopes his government succeeds in building enough of an infrastructure to keep him busy at home. He predicts he's about to hit his global stride and hopes to take his country's image with him. "I'm still warming up, rather than going for it," he says. "My stage is warming up, just before running."

It's been four years since I was last in Aceh covering the aftermath of the tsunami and I was braced for the worst on this trip.

A tsunami drill is carried out in Banda Aceh, with droning alarms and people fleeing an imaginary wave.

I had cynically assumed that there would still be huge swathes of wasteland towards the edge of the city.

But those "fields of shards," as one expat memorably described them to me in the dark days after the tsunami, are now gone. In fact, you have to look quite hard to find any trace of the catastrophe that consumed this corner of Indonesia the day after Christmas 2004.

Houses and shops have sprung up where once there was nothing but rubble, bodies and misery. But what is even more encouraging is that the people here are now much, much better prepared for another tidal wave.

This morning we watched as a full scale tsunami drill was carried out, complete with droning alarms and people covered in fake blood fleeing an imaginary wave.

It was well organized and seemed to show that if Aceh was hit again, there would be a chance for some people to escape.

For some, it brought back chilling memories of that terrible morning on December 26, 2004.

Yudi Rinaldi said the drill brought back images of the day he ran for his life as the tsunami surged towards him.

Yudi Rinaldi, 36, and his four-year-old son Ryan, were among those taking part in the Ulee Lee area of Banda Aceh. He told me the drill was traumatic for him - bringing back vivid images of the day he ran for his life as a monstrous black wave of rubble surged towards him.

Then, there were no tsunami shelters for people like Yudi to run towards.

Now, there are several of these specially-constructed buildings around the city, with room for hundreds of residents. There is a system of buoys out at sea linked to satellites, which should give plenty of warning of an impending tsunami.

I only hope the system will never have to be used for real.

(CNN) – CNN Cairo went to the beach Monday. It was not, alas, a day of rest. We assembled at 2 a.m. at the headquarters of the Egyptian Army's "Morale Guidance" Bureau, from where we were bussed, an hour later, to the northern coast to cover the 2009 Brightstar Exercises.

This year 17,000 troops from Egypt, the United States, Jordan, Pakistan, Germany, Italy, and Kuwait - to name a few - are taking part.

These military exercises have been conducted every two years since 1981.

There is a certain predictability about these affairs. The officers, whatever the country, are all upbeat, talking about cooperation, partnership and mutual respect.

But in the end, these are war games: A rehearsal for something to which other, far less lofty terms come to mind. The officers we interviewed - Americans and Egyptians - speak in glowing adjectives, but dodge questions about what or whom the exercises are preparing for.

I covered Brightstar 10 years ago. Back then it was also all about partnership and cooperation. But in the combat operations room of the USS John F. Kennedy, I had a premonition of what was to come. On a map of clear plastic, written in magic marker over Baghdad were the words: "Target: Saddam."

Ten years later Saddam is gone; U.S. forces are bogged down in Iraq and Afghanistan, while targets have been hit in Yemen, Somalia, and Pakistan.

Voices have been raised in the U.S. – though more loudly and insistently in Israel - calling for military action against Iran, which is accused by some of pursuing a nuclear weapons program.

Back in 1999 it was fairly clear that sooner or later the U.S. and its allies would, somehow or other, bring down Saddam Hussein. After September 11, 2001, regardless of Iraq's non-involvement in those attacks, Saddam's days were running out.

I don't think, at this moment, an attack against Iran (by Israel, by the U.S., or both) is as inevitable as Saddam Hussein's demise. But the possibility is there.

As the sun rose over the desert, I watched three C17 "Globemasters," which had flown straight from Fort Bragg in North Carolina, drop hundreds of paratroopers - mostly Americans along with a few Egyptians and Pakistanis. Later, a pair of American Cobra gunships provided air support as three huge U.S. Navy hovercraft disgorged a dozen armored humvees on a beautiful Mediterranean beach, already "secured" by U.S., Egyptian, Pakistani and Jordanian troops.

It was an impressive display of force and hardware, as well as cooperation and partnership. However it's easy to see from the weapons on display who is the senior "partner."

Sitting in the press bus on my way back to Cairo typing this with my thumbs on a blackberry, I wonder if, as the American and Egyptian officers told us, the Brightstar exercises aren't designed for a specific threat then what is the point?

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.

MALAELA, Samoa – Arriving before sunrise in Samoa, I was surprised to see a small band playing traditional Samoan folk songs to welcome the weary travelers – this was less than 24 hours after an earthquake and tsunami struck the islands.

Tourists are a big part of the economy here, and it was the tourist areas on the South coast that were the hardest hit. One family that owns a popular resort near Lalomanu, lost 14 family members when the wave struck. Traveling up and down the Southern coast, so many stories are the same. Stories of death, and amazing stories of survival.

On the coastal town of Malaela, eight people lost their lives, including two small children. All but two of the houses there were flattened. The village men were digging through the debris. It was as if the contents of the entire town – clothes, furniture, photos, cars – had been tossed and strewn across the muddy ground. The smell from the rotting fish was pungent in the tropical heat.

When the earthquake hit, the women, children and elders ran up a hill to a banana plantation, and there they remained when I visited. Almost 200 people living under tents, with nothing but the clothes they were wearing on the day the earthquake struck. But the Samoan family system was already at work. Donations of food, shelter, clothing, and medical supplies were already pouring in.

One of the village elders told me they were happy to be away from the ocean. She said they had nothing to go back to, so why not stay up in the hills? Villagers also expressed their strong faith in God, and the great comfort their church brings.

Funerals are happening all over town. It seems that everyone here has a funeral to attend – sometimes a dozen funerals.

The shock of the tsunami has made an indelible mark on the Samoan survivors. But so, too, has the indefatigable spirit of the island made an impression on me.

PADANG, Indonesia - The last 48 hours have been bewildering. A series of natural disasters across the Asia Pacific has left us scrambling to cover diverse disasters.

CNN's cameraman Mark Phillips, producer Andy Saputra and survivor John Lee chat in a hospital.

First Tropical Storm Ketsana left Manila 80 percent underwater. So we did our best to get there as soon as possible. But almost no sooner had we arrived than an earthquake and tsunami hit the remote Pacific islands of Samoa and American Samoa.

Frantic calls to various travel agents followed. “How do we get there? Via Seoul?? 35 hours???! You’ve got to be kidding.”

As we were making plans, Ketsana smashed into Vietnam. As other CNN crews were dispatched from Indonesia to Vietnam, suddenly news of another huge earthquake in Sumatra.

It meant we had a logistical nightmare to get to all of our equipment across the other side of the region in double quick time.

A flight through Singapore, Jakarta (endless delayed flights) and finally Padang got us to the heart of the latest crisis.

As our plane glided in over the city I could see the ribbons of light along the roads, but in between, there was dark emptiness. The entire city was blacked-out. Only a few buildings had backup generators. It made live television broadcasts very, very tricky. We had our own portable generator but could bring gasoline on a plane, and now the queue for fuel was two to three hours at the local gas station.

We managed to get a few live shots in the bag before finally our batteries died. Then like the residents of Padang, we too were feeling our way through the night. We found a half-built hotel, which had been slightly damaged. The owner was reluctant to let us stay inside because of the risk of aftershocks, ¬so we instead caught a couple of hours sleep in his bus in the parking lot.

Daylight enabled us to get a much better view of the damage. It’s bizarrely random, as it always seems to be in earthquakes. Some buildings are standing intact, others folded in on themselves.

There is one incident that will stick in my mind forever. It was the incredible story of John Lee. The 55-year-old Singaporean coal trader had been in Padang on business when suddenly his meeting was plunged into darkness, as the quake ”exploded” around him, and before he could react, the building collapsed.

CNN cameraman Mark Phillips spotted some Indonesian rescuers trying to free him, but it seemed like a hopeless effort. They were using a hammer and chisel to try and tunnel through tons of concrete, but Mark spent hours talking to John through the rubble and trying to reassure him that he’d be alright. Watch Phillips talk with Lee, as he's trapped beneath rubble.

Mark left the scene to find out if there was more that could be done but then heard later that John had been freed from his prison of mangled wreckage. On a whim, at one in the morning, we decided to go up to the hospital to see if John was OK. And as we walked into the lobby, there he was, on a stretcher, conscious, awake and smiling.

Finally Mark got to see the man he’d presumed would surely die, and John put a face to the voice who’d given him hope when his situation seemed utterly hopeless.

Amid all this destruction, tragedy and chaos a story of survival and courage that made the last 48 hours seem thoroughly worthwhile.

It's funny the stuff which is meant to impress. It was widely reported the honor guard at this year's national day parade in Beijing would be goose stepping at exactly 116 paces every minute.

Soldiers on show during China's National Day celebrations, October 1, 2009

I tried to count to make sure, but couldn't keep up. To do this they trained for six months. And it was pretty impressive, in a North Korean/Cold War era kind of way.

One strange note, according to leader of the honor guard, to be chosen, the soldiers needed to have "big" eyes, double eye lids, measure 1.88 meters tall and from the top of their belt buckle to the ground had to be 1.2m. To be honest such detail escaped me on the day.

It was also impressive to watch the columns of tanks and missiles roll through the heart of Beijing – the new technology we were told again and again was all "made in China". Perhaps given the history of recent product recalls from this country that may help U.S. military planners rest a little easier.

But possibly most impressive of all wasn't on show, the improvements in the daily life of hundreds of millions Chinese people.

Since the end of the tumultuous era of Mao Ze Dong the economy has boomed. People here are eating better, living longer and have the kind of life their parents wouldn't dream of.

But Beijing was so intent on keeping today's celebrations to the hand picked elite few, it deployed a security operation which was a none too subtle reminder that this country is still run by a one party authoritarian regime.

Somehow, standing there along the parade route, I couldn't help but think, wouldn't this have been a better day if the people of China were allowed to take part in some kind of festive celebration, minus the military hardware?

It would have been a much better image for an overseas audience than the tanks and nuclear capable ICBM's - years of hard work by Chinese diplomats talking about their country's peaceful rise may just have been undone by 66 minute long parade of some of the most destructive weapons on the planet.

MANILA, Philippines — It was the speed of the flooding that left so many shocked in Manila. Many knew that a tropical storm was on its way, but few were prepared for the sudden swirling water that rose up from drains, sewers and rivers choking the streets with brown, filthy water.

A boy wades through the waters in Marietta Romeo, a middle-class neighborhood in eastern Manila.

People say it came up so quickly before they realized what was happening - their cars were underwater, then the ground floor of their houses.

Many panicked and ran upstairs, but the water followed until they had no option but to climb onto the roof.

Some stayed there for days getting hungrier and thirstier.

A man sits among the debris left after floods rushed through Marietta Romeo.

This perhaps explains some of the anger that is gradually being directed at the government.

President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo has been the focus for much of the criticism, but she has so far not held a news conference or given an interview.

Instead, she has issued statements and sound-bites, perhaps mindful of the awkward questions that would be asked about the apparent lack of government planning or preparedness.

Her anointed successor, Defense Minister Gilberto Teodoro, has been the face of the government during this disaster, and the government is now scrambling to show it is on top of the aftermath.

The Presidential Palace was partially opened to allow volunteers to pack supplies for affected areas and some food was handed out to those lucky enough to hear about the aid distribution.

But by the time we arrived, hundreds were waiting outside with a growing sense of disappointment, as they realized they had gotten there too late. In reality, the use of a couple of rooms in the museum of the Presidential Palace was nothing more than an attempt to give local TV stations something to film.

With some 2 million people affected by the flooding, it will take more than biscuits and potato chips to get a grip on the storm and flood aftermath.

International Aid agencies are now here in force, concentrating on water and health issues. Power is still out in many neighborhoods, adding to the misery. Throw into this chaotic mix another stack of tropical storms lurking menacingly out in the Pacific – and this might not be over just yet.