http://www.azstarnet.com/sn/border/95936.php

Published: 10.02.2005

Sasabe, Sonora, has turned into a smugglers' haven
By Michael Marizco
ARIZONA DAILY STAR

SASABE, Sonora - Four smugglers stand on a hilltop overlooking the United States, watching the slow-moving white SUVs of the federal agents below.

"It's a game. You win or lose, but you got to try. Somebody gots to do it," said Diego CansÃÂ*no, leaning against the collapsing brick wall of the squat building behind him, drinking from a can of Tecate and keeping an eye on the U.S. Border Patrol agents less than a mile away.

For the smugglers in Sasabe, Sonora, business has never been better. This little town 65 miles southwest of Tucson doesn't have a gas station or a bank, but its population has doubled to 4,000 since last year. It now boasts new construction in hotels, homes and restaurants that cater to the illegal border-crossers funneled through here, then on up into the Altar Valley.

Smuggling success is driving the growth, said town administrator Jose Alejandro Leyva.

It has changed Sasabe from a rest stop into a haven for people making a living smuggling migrants and drugs into Arizona, he said.

The result: Two U.S. Border Patrol stations responsible for that area accounted for more than 160,000 of the Tucson Sector's 426,000 apprehensions this fiscal year, said Border Patrol spokesman Gustavo Soto. And according to agency records, there is a growing number of migrant deaths along a corridor stretching from Sasabe to Tucson.

For the last 50 years, cattle and brick imported into the United States were the main reasons for the existence of this town with two dirt roads connecting back to Mexico.

Now brand-new trucks without license plates prowl the unpaved streets, and prostitutes make their way down the broken sidewalks propositioning lone men. Hotels and casas de huespedes - flophouses for those waiting to sneak across the border - have sprung up nearly overnight.

"Everybody's making money," boasts CansÃÂ*no. "When it's hot, hot, hot, that's when we make the best money, brother.

"And you get fresh air and all that," he adds.

"Everyone's moving to Sasabe"

Sasabe is essentially a dirt island.

A 60-mile dirt road leads from the border village to the Sonoran city of Altar. Another road connects to the mountain town of Saric.

Occasionally, Mexican federal officials will raid Sasabe; the last time was in 2003 when the military swept through Sonora arresting drug and migrant smugglers. But the sandy roads are an easy giveaway: The large plumes of dust from the officials' convoys announce their coming an hour before they arrive.

Sitting in his dim, tiny office, town administrator Leyva laughs as he waves his hand toward the United States.

"This is turning into a 'little Nogales'; that's what I tell everyone," Leyva said, referring to the burgeoning smuggling activity.

Other than confiscating trucks stolen from Arizona, federal police do little to deter smugglers, he said.

Mexico rarely chases smugglers down unless they're moving foreign nationals.

The result is a haven.

Sasabe's four local cops finally received radios last March. Before that, they shared a pair.

"Everyone's moving to Sasabe. They can make money here," Leyva said.

The town's utility records tell the story.

Since 2004, when the last census was taken, the population has doubled. The municipality isn't prepared for the growth; it's running out of water, Leyva said.

Five hotels have sprung up along with a dozen guesthouses costing $3 per person to sleep in, town records show. Half a dozen hot dog carts dot the rutted streets.

"None of this was here even two years ago," Leyva said.

In 2003, there was only one hotel and no guesthouses.

Today they are numerous, though only 12 are registered. They are an easy path to earning quick cash and don't require more than a toilet and some cots, he said.

The service industry is also profiting.

Two years ago, Arturo Morales opened an oil-change shop and carwash outside his home. He expanded his business and now offers laundry service as well.

"There's need everywhere in this country. This is my way to support my family," he said, his wife and daughter standing behind him in the warm morning sun.

The 11 rooms of the Hotel Perla are filled every weekday with workers from out of town, said owner Francisco Maldonado.

The first cell-phone tower in the village is being placed on a nearby hill, and he's able to rent out three rooms to the workers.

Deported from Oklahoma

CansÃÂ*no, the smuggler, was deported from Oklahoma after he was imprisoned for possession of 55 pounds of cocaine. The Guanajuato man smiles a little as he talks, draining his beer can and tossing it into the grasses surrounding the hill.

Blocking out the setting sun, a Border Patrol helicopter drifts into Mexico - a violation of sovereign airspace that is not acknowledged by either Mexico or the United States.

CansÃÂ*no watches the white copter as it nears him and the three other men, his friends and fellow smugglers. They stare at it as it closes before veering north toward Arivaca.

Stolen vehicles seized

Mexican customs agents at the Sasabe port of entry are the first to see the results of the smuggling dollars.

Since August, a dozen new trucks have been seized and their drivers arrested. All were stolen in the United States and brought to Sasabe, said ValentÃÂ*n Gamez, the agent in charge of the port. On Aug. 20, agents seized a truck stolen from a Border Patrol official in Texas.

Nobody knows how many stolen cars get through. Last month, the agents spotted six trucks trying to enter Mexico through the San Miguel Gate of the Tohono O'odham Indian Reservation. The drivers returned to the United States to wait them out.

Radios guide smugglers

The crackle of radios and calm Mexican voices are the only sounds on the hill overlooking the United States.

"Maria, Maria. Te viene uno," says the man with the binoculars watching the white SUVs a mile away. "Maria" means he spotted agents. One is coming close to a group of illegal entrants being guided across.

A second man relays the coded message by radio to the smuggler in the group. Working together, they marshal the group past the first line of U.S. defenses in a never-ending chess match.

CansÃÂ*no stands beside them, watching. He moved 14 groups of people into the United States in a single day earlier this month and prides himself on safely guiding kids and women across the border. His cut is $100 a person.

An hour passes, then the sound of truck tires crunching on dirt and rock. Someone comes back with a black plastic bag stuffed with ice and Tecate.

Everyone relaxes. The group made it by the Border Patrol.