Human tumbleweeds, costumed nuns aren't fooling border officials

By ALFREDO CORCHADO / The Dallas Morning News

ALONG THE U.S.-MEXICO BORDER – The story would be comical if it weren't so tragic and so true.

Here, among the blowing sand and scrub brush that mark the El Paso sector of the U.S.-Mexico border, from West Texas through New Mexico, a number of
immigrants have attempted to blend into the landscape by turning themselves into human tumbleweeds, rolling slowly across dusty roads – some with actual weeds
attached to them for camouflage. Agents from the BICE squad – the U.S. Bureau of Immigration and Customs Enforcement – are on to the ruse.

"Whenever we see what looks like tumbleweed, the first thing we try to determine is which way the wind is blowing," said Agent Caleb Vidaurri. "Sometimes the
wind blows one way, and the tumbleweed blows the other. You know something's not right."

Against a backdrop of a mounting death toll in border badlands, the desperation of would-be immigrants has led to innovative ways to test the agents from BICE,
formerly the U.S. Border Patrol.

Some of the latest techniques, including the tumbleweed method, are decidedly low-tech and an indication that the latest U.S. technology – from unmanned drones
and thermal scanners to X-ray machines and iron fences arrayed along the border – is sometimes no match for human will. Agents find the techniques both amusing
and worrisome.

"We're up against imagination, ingenuity and will," said David B. Ham, assistant chief patrol agent in the El Paso sector. "Those are formidable foes."

The El Paso sector – which is responsible for the border in New Mexico and two large West Texas counties, El Paso and Hudspeth – had 94,156 apprehensions in
2002.

Officials say the number caught represents only a fraction of the people who crossed.

As U.S. authorities continue to crack down along the border using high-tech gadgets, many undocumented immigrants are unwilling to risk
deadly desert crossings or put their lives in the hands of smugglers. They fear they might be stuffed into airless trailers, as were the 19
immigrants who died last month in Victoria, Texas, in what authorities call the worst smuggling tragedy in U.S. history.

Simpler methods

While it's unknown how many undocumented immigrants actually succeed, agents say Mexicans are increasingly relying on simpler solutions
to get across the border. There are underground tunnels that double as cross-border drug chutes. And many immigrants – some with the
help of smugglers, many more on their own – are attempting illegal crossings in odd ways, ranging from blitzkrieg car raids to hiding in
pockets sewn into the seats of tour buses.

One undocumented immigrant was found hiding in the dashboard of a specially equipped Ford Windstar van, driven by a woman coyote
disguised as a nun. The woman, Maribel Sánchez Carreón, was arrested in May at the San Ysidro border crossing near San Diego. She had
dressed to appear exactly like a real nun whose photo was on an authentic border-crossing card. U.S. Homeland Security officials said she
had used the card to ferry at least 10 undocumented immigrants in the last several weeks.

'Nothing is off limits'

In an internal advisory issued to authorities along the U.S.-Mexico border, officials dubbed Ms. Sánchez the "Low-Flying Nun" and warned officers that "nothing is
off limits to smugglers and nothing should be taken for granted."

That's certainly the case along the Rio Grande, where men, women and children gather daily on the Mexican side of the border, a line drawn in the middle of the
desert more than 150 years ago. Some sit patiently watching as U.S. agents stake out popular routes. They track the officers' every movement, including eating
habits and the times when work shifts change. Others carefully time their crossings to coincide with strengthening winds, waiting to join the tumbleweeds parading
across the desert.

"It's all about how much you want a better life for your family," said Vidal López Rubio, a 31-year-old father of two from Torreón, Coahuila, on his way to Denton
to work for a roofing company. "That's my sole motivation, giving my family something more."

Line is drawn

It's a story that Agent Vidaurri hears all the time. Watching a few men gather on the Mexican side of the border near El Paso, Agent Vidaurri reflected: "It's amazing
how someone took a pen and drew a line across a paper and decided the fate of two people. I could have easily been on the other side of the line and would have
been trying to do the same thing, come here for opportunities."

Up the road near Columbus, N.M., the U.S. government has put up 10 towers – with 10 more planned for 2004 – equipped with permanent lighting and day and
nighttime video cameras that rise 60 feet in the air.

The cameras, along with dozens of sensitive electronic sensors hidden along hundreds of miles of trails used by immigrants, are linked to the command center in
nearby Deming and are equipped with video monitors, which allow agents to scour the area.

Vulnerable area

Command-center personnel can immediately dispatch field agents to intercept the immigrants or drug smugglers. Two helicopters can carry up to six agents, travel at
speeds of 150 mph and fly up to three hours without refueling, said El Paso sector Agent-in-Charge Rick Moody.

Heading west along the border near Columbus, a metal fence runs for three miles, but beyond that are miles and miles of wide open border vulnerable to smugglers.

On some nights, as many as 50 vehicles, loaded with undocumented immigrants, gather along the porous borderline. Then it happens: The cars and trucks make an
off-road dash for the border, headed for New Mexico's Highway 9, which runs east and west.

Agent Moody confesses his 100 agents have little chance. On any given evening, agents may catch only about one-third of those attempting to cross. On "raid days"
– when dozens of vehicles rush the border together – the average falls even lower.

More deaths expected

Standing by a fence, with nothing but brush standing between him and smugglers who cruise by on the Mexican side of the border, waving mockingly, Agent Moody
remarked, "Some days are tougher than others."

Agent Moody said that high-tech initiatives have forced smugglers to take more risks as they push undocumented immigrants – many of them children, women or
elderly – through desert arroyos and over hills and mountains, walking up to seven miles in three to four hours. Last year, five died crossing this lonely stretch of land.

The number is expected to increase this year, with the summer heat still ahead.

Despite all of the immigrant innovations, success often comes down to sheer providence. Just ask 30-year-old Miguel Medrano Pacheco, who was busy applying a
limpia – spiritual cleansing – to himself on a May afternoon.

Mr. Medrano, a native of Fresnillo, Zacatecas, said he had a choice of jobs waiting in Fort Worth or Houston.

But he had no money to pay for a smuggler, and even if he did, he said, "they're ruthless people." This would be his third attempt to cross.

Fanning himself with a burning newspaper and rubbing his skin with a chicken egg to ward off evil spirits, Mr. Medrano explained, "Against such odds, you always
pray for help from above."

Staff writer Ricardo Sandoval in Mexico City contributed to this report.

E-mail acorchado@dallasnews.com