The straight dope on smuggling

Arizona Daily Wildcat Josh Schneyer

Sonoran Desert dwellers identify with folksongs about spacious skies, endless skyways, and skies that aren't cloudy all day. But let's broaden our horizons. Perhaps a better description of our skyscape is cielito lindo de contrabando (beautiful sky of co ntraband), a lyric from the mariachi standard that begins, Ay-ay-ay-ay Canta y no llores.

One can follow smuggling in the news, but why not go right to its source? This week I drove to Nogales in search of a contraband story. Luckily, I befriended a group of mariachis who offered me most of the information I present below. These informants, wh ose names I never asked, showed me that all borderlanders, regardless of citizenship, live under skies of contraband.

Some of us believe there's a great cultural and economic barrier separating the U.S. from Mexico, best symbolized by the border itself. But this fence is more than a peripheral divide between two countries. It's the center of a third "country," a borderla nd with its own culture, neither Mexican nor American. One element unifying borderlanders is smuggling. Most of us turn into petty smugglers when we visit Nogales. Some become big-time, and a select few become magnates.

This "impasse" we call the border is but a minor obstacle on the smuggler's way. Like a small pile of sandbags in a big flood plain, it will never stop the flow of illicit goods to the U.S..

Petty-Smuggling:

Even family-oriented Borderlanders take up smuggling. It starts when we bring something back for the kids. Firecrackers are always popular, but consider also that thousands of canisters of baby formula are smuggled each day. The Mexican government subsidi zes the formula, making it much cheaper than American brands. This type of trafficking is not risk-free. If caught, mommy could serve hard time.

Mexico is also a paradise for pill-poppers. The pharmaceuticals they grovel for in the U.S. are available here without a script. One lucky crossing and they'll remain glassy-eyed for months, free to shrink their heads with Prozac, sleep tight with Valium, or even induce slumber in their dates with Rohypnol (Roofies). For the decrepid, Retin-A smoothes wrinkles. For students, Benzedrine fuels any study session, and penicillin saves a trip to health services. So let the healing begin.

But beware. The Mariachis told me that pharmacists call upon customs to bust their own clients. Seized drugs sometimes revert to pharmacy shelves.

Of course, not all ailments respond to pills. Cowboys say, "If your not sure whether to feed a cold or starve it, try drowning it." A few slugs of mescal, with the worm, might do the trick. And then there's the old wives' tale: A bowl of turtle soup cures any ill. Unfortunately, the main ingredient is scarce north of the border, creating a market for turtle meat traffickers.

For pet enthusiasts, smuggling offers wild opportunity. Traffic in exotic animals is common. Parrots require special care, since they're known to "declare" for themselves at the customs booth. According to my mariachi informants, a quick slug of tequila w ill silence the bird long enough for a border crossing. Once across, a splash of cold water gets Polly talking again, although she may slur her words.

Recently, An ostrich smuggler was busted. (maybe he only administered a parrot's dose of tequila). Another man was caught with 12,000 scorpions on ice; one can only guess at his sadistic motive.

Big-time smuggling:

"People smuggling" is bigger business. So-called coyotes sneak thousands of illegals over (and under) the border, and these illegals aren't just Mexicans. My mariachi friends told tales of Chinese and Brazilian indocumentados, who come from afar to make the crossing.

Then there's marijuana, for which consumer demand is, to say the least, inelastic. These days, traffickers make $500 to $700 profit per bulk pound. However, they must avoid the narcs, and in order to do so, they hire folks who don't fit the drug runner's profile.

This month, two elderly ladies came out of retirement to run 400 lbs. Of marijuana from Nogales to Tucson. After their arrest, a friend described one of the smugglers, Gloria Marie Slopek, as a stand-up gal. "Maybe she needed (the marijuana) for medical r easons," she said.

Unfortunately, Slopek failed to produce a doctor's note, and even then, 400 lbs. is enough dope to get all the geriatric wards in the country off their rockers.

Smuggling Magnates:

Cocaine has a way of getting under the noses of Customs and Border Patrol officials, as drug lord Amado Carrillo Fuentes understood. He was perhaps the most untouchable Sonoran smuggler of recent years, fiercely controlling the local cocaine trade.

Carrillo's cartel is allegedly defunct. He was reported dead this week, after a plastic surgery to alter his appearance went awry. But I'm not so sure. A staged death, perhaps inspired by the summer blockbuster Face-Off, could help him elude his enemies m ore effectively than plastic surgery. Creative anonymity is the main trick of his trade.

To learn the ins and outs of smuggling, listen to the Norteño mariachis, our borderland troubadors. Their huge sombreros suggest a deep understanding of the smuggler's art. As Señor Carrillo illustrates, a good smuggler draws attention away from his face. Look up and imagine our beautiful sky of contraband. It's a smuggler's heaven with no fences or customs booths to divide it.