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.

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.

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.

THAILAND-MYANMAR BORDER - The Shan State Army has been fighting for more than 50 years. Their battle, both victories and losses, no longer make the news.

Their struggle against the hard-line military dictatorship of Myanmar is committed,­ but the border of Thailand and Myanmar is hardly a strategically significant area for the West. So the long, guerrilla conflict continues out of the spotlight of the world.

Shan State Army warlord Colonel Yawd Serk.

Every day men, women and children are forced from their homes by the fighting. The SSA claims 10,000 have been displaced in recent months.

When I got a call from the assistant to their commander, on a crackling phone from the distant jungles of Myanmar, it was clear they had a message that they wanted to get out.

We traveled to a remote and secret rendezvous promising not to reveal where Colonel Yawd Serk was planning to brief us.

I wasn't sure what to expect,­ but we found a slightly comical scene at the end of a rough dirt track in the middle of the steaming, lush jungle. The warlord of the Shan State Army was waiting patiently besides two dirty white plastic chairs with a presentation of photos and information carefully displayed on pieces of cardboard, nailed to two teak trees.

He was quiet, patient and exuding a polite, earnest concern for his people and their untold plight. But what he told me was anything but amusing.

He spoke about raped women, destroyed villages, massacres, forced labor and summary executions. A litany of abuse that has gone on for decades without the kind of moral indignation that features in other trouble spots around the world.

It¹s perhaps partly because the SSA and the other ethnic groups that make up the patchwork of fiefdoms along the Thai-Myanmar border have in the past funded their armies through drug production. In the 1970s and 80s, the golden triangle was an infamous opium production centre.

Now the SSA tells me it's turned its back on drug production, even giving us footage of its soldiers ambushing drug dealers and raiding methamphetamine factories.

It wants to focus world attention on the ethnic cleansing it claims is going on every day. Yawd Serk says next year's planned elections in Myanmar are meaningless, a crude attempt by the junta to improve their image and reduce the considerable international pressure on the regime.

The resounding message from my half hour chat with this softly spoken warlord was simple: our fight goes on, irrespective of elections.

I left him as I found him ­ a camouflaged figure, who's devoted his life to a war that few know about, that could easily be waged for another 50 years far from the gaze of the world's media.

We shook hands and he disappeared back to the jungles where he's fought for most of his life.

JAKARTA, Indonesia - I was experiencing an unsettling sense of déjà vu while rushing to the airport in Bangkok.

A body is removed after two hotels were bombed in Jakarta.

Once again a bomb had put Jakarta top of the news bulletin. Not for the first time, I was juggling flights, connections and traffic to make a seemingly impossible deadline.

I'd been half-expecting this phone call to come for a while. During the filming of a World's Untold Stories on the Bali bombers I'd been immersed in the world of Jemaah Islamiyah.

All the experts we interviewed warned that while JI was on the back-foot, after months of pressure from Indonesia's elite Detachment 88 anti-terror group, JI should not be written off.

One of their most notorious disaffected former members is Noordin Top.

Experts think he's formed a sort of ultra violent splinter cell, after the mainstream of JI decided to turn its back on violence and try to achieve their aims of an Islamic caliphate across south-east Asia through preaching and politics.

Noordin is linked to the previous attack on the Marriott in 2003 which left 12 people dead.

I know this because his friend, convicted terrorist Abu Dujana told me he met Noordin shortly before the attack.

I interviewed Dujana a couple of years ago and he dodged and weaved as he tried to evade answering questions about Noordin, who he described as a "brother in Islam."

Noordin is also linked to the 2005 Bali bombing, as well as an attack on the Australian Embassy in 2005.

In short, Noordin has a track record of hitting western targets and he's been lying low for four years.

Some had thought that was a sign he was no longer capable of organizing another "spectacular" or that perhaps he was dead.

We still don't know for sure Noordin is linked to this latest attack but the evidence is mounting.

The police say the type of explosive used is almost identical to a cache of explosives found a couple of weeks ago in a house in west Java, which police believe was linked to Noordin.

The police will also doubtless be chasing down leads found in room 1808 of the Marriott where they believe the terrorists were checked-in posing as guests.

Among the possessions they found a bomb ready for detonation.

Together with crucial security video footage which may show one of the bombers wheel his deadly charge towards the breakfast room of the Marriott, the police will have plenty to work on over the next few days.

But until they catch Noordin Top, I doubt sadly this will be the last time the phone rings and I have to run for a plane bound for Jakarta.

BANGKOK, Thailand - It was one of the more bizarre episodes in her extraordinary life, but Nobel Peace Laureate Aung San Suu Kyi must have thought she was seeing things when she saw a wet-bedraggled American emerging exhausted onto her veranda.

Myanmar citizens living in Japan hold portraits of Aung San Suu Kyi as they shout slogans during a rally.

John Yettaw had swum across Inya Lake – a picturesque body of water that the military Junta thought was also part of an impenetrable ring of defences around Aung San Suu Kyi’s mansion. Her crumbling, but grand colonial-era house has has been her prison cell for much of the last two decades, and everyone assumed the lake it borders was also heavily patrolled and monitored. Not so apparently.

But now Yettaw, a reportedly troubled former Vietnam War veteran, has inadvertently given the military authorities just the excuse they need to further isolate and marginalise Aung San Suu Kyi -– who after so many years, still remains a potent icon for democratic struggle in Myanmar.

The trial is patently ridiculous. Aung San Suu Kyi has been effectively put on trial for having her house broken into. Her lawyers will try and argue that she knew nothing about the American planned to visit her (how could she, she is in utter isolation with no phone, email and few visitors) and moreover she tried in vain to encourage him to leave.

In fact, they will try and turn the charges on their head, arguing instead it is the State who has failed in it duty to protect her. It’s a neat idea, but it’s almost certain to fail.

The regime was looking for an excuse to yet again extend her house arrest, which was due to expire at the end of the month. In its warped way, it likes to do things by the book –- the problem is the generals wrote the book and continue to twist the penal code to their own advantage. John Yettaw’s little night-time swim provides the perfect reason to extend her house-arrest or worse still, actually jail her in the notorious and sinisterly named Insein Prison.

Aung San Suu Kyi’s lawyers say the prosecution plans to call 22 witnesses ... 21 of them government employees. Diplomatic sources think the junta's tactic might be to drag the legal proceedings out for several weeks or even months until the media has lost interest and then quietly extend her detention well beyond next year’s planned elections.

The elections will be the result of an interminable process run by the junta, to supposedly re-introduce democracy in Myanmar. It’s involved years of discussions, and a wholesale rewriting of the constitution.

What the generals don’t like to highlight is that their so called “Roadmap to Democracy” also included a clause which forbids citizens who’ve had children with foreigners, from running for office.

That conveniently means Aung San Suu Kyi will be ineligible to run, because she was married to a British man Michael Aris and had two sons with him. But analysts say there is fear among the Junta, led by Senior General Than Shwe, that even under house arrest Aung San Suu Kyi still poses a threat to their attempt to hold a sham vote and proclaim democracy, while continuing to run the country with Stalinist-style brutality.

Just the mere act of holding a ballot may remind many of the 1990 elections that Suu Kyi’s National League for Democracy won by a landslide and that the military then ignored. That could then provide the trigger for more demonstrations, similar to the Saffron Revolution in 2007 which saw Buddhist monks being mercilessly beaten and arrested, after they tried to lead a people’s uprising against the regime.

So perhaps Than Shwe is acting early – getting Suu Kyi even more securely locked up, and they hope, discredited by a trial, even if the charges are spurious at best.

Then perhaps the plan is to go ahead and ask the people to vote for them next year. The only problem is the press isn’t going to forget about Aung San Suu Kyi and neither is the international community. The EU is also talking about extending sanctions against the regime and the trial, if it achieves anything, will only further entrench the contempt with which most Burmese regard the military, which has ruled them with such brutality since 1962.

So what will be the result of Aung San Suu Kyi’s trial?

Well I’d wager it’ll be a continuation of the status quo. The military will carry on ruling Myanmar, regardless of the result of next year’s election result. Aung San Suu Kyi will continue to be locked up at home or in prison, depending on whether she’s found innocent or guilty.

The sanctions will continue to fail to bring the regime to its knees, regardless of whether they are extended or maintained and the people of Myanmar will continue to suffer, regardless of whether we all lose interest or remain transfixed in horrified indignation.

BANGKOK, Thailand - I've spent the day flinching. Gunfire is a lot louder in real life than it is in the movies.

A bus burns in the streets of Bangkok.

Thai soldiers finally reacted to the taunts and provocations of the red-shirted anti-government protesters.

I was in the lobby of a hotel, when suddenly the air was shattered by the unmistakable sound of automatic gunfire, right outside.

I ran through the lobby, as dozens of tourists ran inside ducking and taking cover.

It would have been comical, if it weren't so damn scary.

As I emerged into the suffocating heat outside, I saw perhaps 50 soldiers with their M-16s tilted toward the sky, emptying their magazines.

The noise was like a Chinese New Year firecracker fiesta.

But I was acutely aware that all those bullets that go up must come down somewhere.

The next few hours got crazier and crazier.

Buses careening down the road, with no driver heading towards the troops.

Soldiers responding with gunfire.

Me, trying to see what's happening, but also stay behind something solid.

Half the time I was actually live on air, the crackle of gunfire so loud I could barely hear myself talk.

Looking back on the day, it's been a watershed.

Finally the army has shown it is willing to back the beleaguered Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva.

But I was impressed by their discipline.

In years past, Thai soldiers have mown down protesters by the dozen.

This time though they were careful to aim high and only shot when they genuinely felt they were under threat - like when the bus sped towards them, out of control with no driver aboard.

CNN has had both the prime minister and his nemisis former premier Thaksin Shinawatra on air live.

The red-shirted protesters are calling for Thaksin to be allowed to come back and lead the country despite the fact he's been found guilty of corruption.

Abhisit has defended the actions of the army, essentially saying the protesters have contravened their right to protest peacefully, by engaging in violent attacks on the soldiers.

Thaksin says the soldiers have used excessive force and have been shooting live rounds directly at the crowds.

Neither side seems ready to compromise. I can't see peace breaking out any time soon. I remain ready to carry on flinching.

Another weekend ruined by the protesters of Bangkok. Particularly annoying as it's Easter. But I guess I should used to it now. I mean it's been political chaos here virtually since the day I arrived in April 2006. In fact, the very first story I did for CNN in Bangkok was the yellow shirt protests against the government of Thaksin Shinawatra. He was eventually ousted in a military coup in September that year.

Then his allies managed to win the election, amid allegations they'd rigged the result. So that resulted in yet more yellow shirt protests, including the occupation of the main airport in Bangkok.

Red-shirted protesters surround a car in a residential street in Bangkok.

Finally Thaksin's allies were booted out of office by a court ruling which agreed some had been involved in electoral fraud. I thought that was it...but no. More disturbed weekends followed. This time the yellow shirts had given way to red shirts, in favor of, not against Thaksin.

The reds had been slowly ramping up the rhetoric and action, culminating in this weekend's double-whammy. They managed to get the ASEAN regional summit suspended after they stormed the venue.

And now they are trying to catch the Thai Prime Minister, attacking his motorcade and rampaging through government buildings trying to locate him.

The PM, Abhisit Vejjajiva has declared a state of emergency, but you wouldn't know it where I live. The Thai New Year celebrations are already underway with traditional water-fights being the only form of violence in my neighborhood.

What a contrast with the scenes elsewhere in the city, where it was mob rule. So what will happen next? Well, there are several possibilities:

1. Abhisit calls a snap election (which he'd be unlikely to win; Thaksin's allies have consistently led in the polls).

2. Abhisit resigns...then what? Probably more political jockeying for position and a coalition of some sort might be cobbled together....which could result in more protests from one side or the other.

3. Thaksin returns from exile to lead the Red-shirts in a sort of uprising....that'd be messy and bloody, and frankly I think it's unlikely. The former prime minister faces a number of corruption charges and could also be jailed for his conviction last year on one corruption charge.

4. Perhaps the Army might intervene and stage a coup, as it has done frequently in the past. That might help quell the current crisis, but it'd do little to heal the deep divisions between both sides.

5. Abhisit rides it out or gets tough. Either is unlikely to do much for his relations with the reds. Trying to ignore the protests will leave him looking even weaker; ordering a violent crack-down may simply harden the resolve of the red shirts and provide fodder to their questionable claims that Abhisit has dictatorial tendencies.

Whatever happens, I think one thing is sure...it'll happen on the weekend.

The Khmer Rouge trial has been a harrowing story to cover. The unimaginable magnitude of the killing is breathtaking: 1.5 million, 2 million, some even put it as high as 3 million - an abstract and unfathomable number.

But it's when I'm confronted with men like Norng Champhal that the horror and terror are really drawn into sharp, brutal focus. He told me through tears of raw grief, how he was separated from his mother 30 years ago at the most notorious of the 189 torture and detention camps, Tuol Sleng or S-21.

Norng Champhal was just 8 or 9 when he was taken to Tuol Sleng prison. He is one of the few survivors.

He never saw his mother again and spent several days hearing the haunting screams of people being tortured to death. Then finally the Khmer Rouge fled, as invading Vietnamese forces approached. He frantically ran from room to room looking for his mother.

In each, he found iron bed-frames with blankets thrown over the mutilated corpses the KR had hurriedly abandoned.

He told me he peeked under one blanket, trembling as he looked. A nine-year-old boy, checking corpses to see if they were his mother. He never found her, but he thinks it's impossible she survived. He says those memories are still so fresh and clear they are still profoundly painful.

More than 14,000 people died in S-21. Only a few survived, among them Champhal.

His story is repeated across this violated land. At least a quarter of the population died between 1975 and 1979. It would be the equivalent of approximately 70 million Americans being slaughtered in just three years, eight months and 20 days.

Historians argue about the extent to which the U.S. secret bombing of Cambodia contributed to the rise of the fanatical Maoist regime.

Certainly the U.S., U.K. and others continued to back the KR long after they were ousted from the capital. But this trial will not initially dwell on U.S. involvement or the causes of the Khmer Rouge rising to power.

It will begin simply with the story of S21 and the man that put so many, including Champhal's mother, to death.

Duch, or Kaing Guek Eav, is charged with crimes against humanity and has admitted his role as Commandant of S21. Now finally Champhal may begin to get some answers about the nightmare that still casts its long and dark shadow over this traumatized country.

Watch my report on notorious Tuol Sleng and survivor Norng Champhal's recollection of the torture camp.

KANCHANABURI, Thailand – This job takes me to all sorts of interesting places and I meet all sorts of fascinating people, but it's not often that I come home and tell my wife that I met a tiger.

When I say I met a tiger, I don't mean I looked at it through the bars of a cage in a zoo. No, I mean, I actually took it for a walk, like a impossibly large lumbering dog.

I stroked it like a cute kitty and nervously patted its head, which alone was the size of your average poodle.

It was easy to be lulled into thinking this huge beast was a gentle pet – but my brain and tens of thousands of years of evolution were screaming "PANIC".

This animal is a potential killer. One swipe from its tail would be enough to floor me. A playful scratch from its claw would have severed a major artery.

We were filming at Thailand's so called "Tiger Temple" near Kanchanaburi. The story was about new ID cards being introduced to try and prevent these magnificent animals being smuggled. But all I could think about was the sudden panic, as it decided it didn't like my aftershave or the color of my shirt.

We'd been told not to wear red, as that can "excite" the felines. But what if they just didn't like appearing on camera?

I stupidly presumed the tigers had already been fed... but no they hadn't. And there wasn't just one; we were in a small quarry surrounded by half a dozen hungry man-eating beasts.

I started to think back to some of the "hostile training" we'd been given for going into war zones. Check your exit routes... erm, a 200 yard sprint to the quarry exit. Mmmm, what would be the chances of out-running 6 tigers over 200 yards?

Oh yeah, and then there was the part of the course about potentially dangerous animals to avoid... snakes, scorpions, mosquitoes, but no-one mentioned TIGERS. I thought back to "Apocalypse Now" when the guy on the boat says "I didn't come to 'Nam to get eaten by no friggin' tiger man".

Well, I definitely didn't come to Thailand to get eaten by one either. But it soon became apparent that the animals were not limbering up for the morning "maul the CNN correspondent" game. In fact they seemed much more interested in each other, than us.

After 20 minutes the fear began to subside and I actually began to enjoy this incredible experience. Their grace and agility was mesmerizing. They were playful, affectionate and stunningly beautiful to watch. But don't get me wrong: the thrill of seeing these animals up-close was tempered with fear and respect.

At no point was I under any delusion that these tigers, although born in captivity and used to humans, were still the top of the food chain... and I was but a walking snack. Humbling and certainly not "just another day in the office."