ON THE ROAD TO SHAO LIN, Taiwan — It is a three-hour drive from Kaohsiung city into the mountains. We are trying to get to Shao Lin, a village wiped away by mudslides.

CNN’s Pauline Chiou stands on what remains of a washed out bridge in Jia Shian, Taiwan.

Along the main road through various towns, Taiwanese military troops clear out mud created by Typhoon Morokat last week. The soldiers create walls of mud to line the road.

The closer we get to the mountains, the more somber the stories. In the town of Ci Shan, we see a large tent along the side of the road with something like funeral preparations going on.

We pull over to find out more. Behind the tent is an open metal structure with funeral floral wreaths lined up inside. A Chinese banner reads, "In Memory of Typhoon Morokat Victims." A woman sits under the tent crying. A volunteer tells me she is waiting for the body of a family member.

An outdoor makeshift morgue is nearby. Workers in hospital gowns shuffle by in the heat. I meet a man named Wu Ji Rong, who says he is a funeral director. He says the workers have received 20 bodies this week. Most have been washed up by the nearby swollen Lao Nong River. Some are not whole bodies but body parts.

The Taiwanese are used to typhoons. But, Wu says, "It's the worst devastation I've seen in 50 years."

HONG KONG, China — What's your food addiction? Let's be honest. Everyone has a snack or a food that keeps them reaching for more. For me, it is Doritos. Not just any Doritos...but Cool Ranch-flavored Doritos. For some reason, I can't seem to stop at one. My hand is reaching into the bag as my brain is saying, "Stop." We explored the issue of "food bliss" with a guest on Friday morning on CNN Today. Dr. David Kessler is the former commissioner of the Food and Drug Administration in the United States.

Dr. Kessler became curious about food bliss when, one day, he couldn't stop thinking about that chocolate chip cookie sitting on his kitchen counter. So he spent time researching the topic and has some interesting findings. He answered our questions about the link between combinations of ingredients and their effects on our brain.

I put out a Tweet and asked viewers what their food weaknesses are. The answers are coming in from many different countries. Owais from Pakistan says "Cheese Pizza." From Seoul, South Korea kayakapuccai  tweets," I like almond and potato chips. sometimes once i start eating them it's hard to stop and eat too much in the end. wanna know why." From San Francisco in the U.S., foodielive says, "ice cream, diet coke."

You can tweet me with your food obsession at paulineCNN.

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.

SEOUL, South Korea — Since I arrived in Seoul early Tuesday morning, I have been struck by a scene that I walk by every day: a long line of people waiting to pay their respects to the late former President Roh Moo-hyun, who committed suicide last weekend by jumping off a cliff near his home.

This makeshift altar is one of several set up in Seoul and across the country to mourn Roh.

The long line of mourners is full of professionals, dressed in business suits. I have seen them at lunchtime, all afternoon and even late at night. Police buses line a roundabout nearby. The mourners stand behind a cord of yellow and black ribbons.

Yellow is the color associated with Roh's presidency. The line of mourners ends at a makeshift shrine under a yellow tent. That is where people bow several times before a portrait of Roh.

On the side of the tent, video screens show Roh meeting dignitaries during his 2003-2008 presidency. I have seen residents writing messages of condolences and taping them along the cement wall of the nearby subway stop.

While the rest of the world is watching what North Korea does next after its nuclear test on Monday, surprisingly, South Koreans are taking that news in stride. They are accustomed to and cautious about North Korea's unpredictable moves. To most South Koreans, they are less moved by the North Korea news and more connected to mourning their late president. That is the big story for them.

A man reads messages of condolence posted at the City Hall subway stop in Seoul.

The public is angry, shocked and saddened by Roh’s death. Angry because many believe his suicide was the outcome of an intensely political corruption investigation; shocked and saddened because Roh was a politician who had campaigned on rooting out corruption. Before his death, he had denied allegations against him.

This morning, I walked to the bureau and passed the line again. I smelled incense in the air. Incense is burned to pay respects to ancestors or when someone passes away. With the state funeral set for Friday, the lines of mourners will surely grow longer and larger.

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.