Books, movies and television have long provided a glamorous gloss for the image of the foreign correspondent. Heit has traditionally been a he-dashes from one cosmopolitan capital to another by first-class jetliner or Orient Express-style railway compartment; he puts up at such elegant hostelries as Claridge's in London or the Plaza Athénée in Paris, dining at Maxim's or its local equivalent; he hobnobs with celebrities and is on intimate terms with heads of government.
This stereotype of glamour and prestige never seems so unreal as when a correspondent is confronted by overwhelming, stomach-wrenching misery...