REWARD OFFERED

Please forward this information to hams and anyone of interest
WORLDWIDE!


3B7C Equipment Stolen

We regret to report that some of the equipment that was loaned for
the Yaesu sponsored 3B7C DXpedition was stolen when the container
returned to the UK.

It would be appreciated if you could please look-out for any of the
following being offered for sale or trade-in, and if seen then please
contact the police quoting the following Incident Number.

Crime Incident number : 44070539181

FT-2000 100W Serial number 7D170271
FT-2000 100W Serial number 7D170459
FT-847 100W HF/VHF/UHF Transceiver 3C131053
FT-847 100W HF/VHF/UHF Transceiver 3C131054
VP-1000 Quadra Power Supply unit 7F920017

Yaesu UK is offering a reward for information leading to the
conviction of the criminals responsible.

Hallan el cadáver de un empresario chino que fue secuestrado en Tijuana-Body of kidnapped Chinese businessman who was kidnapped in Tijuana found

domingo 9 de diciembre, 06:14 PM

Tijuana (México), 9 dic (EFE).- Un empresario chino del sector de los restaurantes, que había sido secuestrado hace dos días en el noroeste de México, fue hallado sin vida en las inmediaciones de Tijuana, informaron hoy fuentes oficiales.

Official sources announced today that a Chinese restaurant owner, who had been kidnapped two days ago in northwestern Mexico, was found dead in the vicinity of Tijuana.

Al parecer el empresario Liu Ting Yao, de 50 años, fue encontrado el mismo viernes por la noche después de que sus captores pidieran un rescate por él, que nunca se pagó.

Apparently the the businessman, Yao Ting Liu, 50 years old, was found on Friday night after his captors asked for a ransom for him, which was never paid.

Según la fiscalía de Baja California el cuerpo fue encontrado atado de pies y manos y con cinta adhesiva en el rostro, envuelto en una manta y dentro de la cajuela (maletero) de un auto tipo sedán con matrícula de California. El automóvil parecía haber volcado y cuando los agentes lo inspeccionaron se percataron de que dentro de él estaban los restos del empresario asiático.

According to the Prosecutor's office of Baja California, his body was found bound hand and foot with adhesive tape on his face, wrapped in a blanket inside the trunk of a car, which was registered in California. The car appeared to have been overturned, and when agents inspected it they realized that the Asian entrepreneur was inside the wreck.

El dueño del restaurante "Bello Palacio", localizado en el centro de Tijuana, a pocos metros de la comandancia de policía municipal, presentaba huellas de estrangulamiento.

The owner of the "Bello Palacio," located in the center of Tijuana, a few meters from the municipal police headquarters, showed signs of strangulation.

Las autoridades están investigando varias hipótesis en torno a los hechos, entre ellas la posibilidad de que el crimen, por sus características, se deba a una venganza.

The authorities are investigating several scenarios based on the facts; including the possibility that, by the nature of the crime, it may be attributed to revenge.

Dreadful error messages



An error message from Windows Vista:

"You do not have permission to view the current permission settings for Properties, but you can make permission changes."

David Terry, a Programmer/analyst, offers the following explanation on the TechRepublic website:

"You get it in Vista when you are drilling into the permissions of a file folder when you are logged in with Administrator level permissions, but that particular account has not been explicitly given rights, either directly, or through inheritance, to that folder. So….the logic goes, you cannot view the folder permissions (because you don’t currently have permission), BUT since you are an Administrator, you can, of course, grant those permissions to yourself. The reason it doesn’t do this automatically is because 1) the act could break something else, and 2) a long time ago everyone complained to Microsoft about them 'automatically' deciding what is best for someone’s IT environment…so they stopped it and said 'Now if you want it to happen, you have to do it yourself.'

Just thought I would share that with the community."

The objection most users have about error messages is they seldom, if ever, provide any message. Their wording is gibberish. Since a command of the English language, or common logic, is not the forte of developers, the rest of us are stuck with trying to decipher what they really meant to say.

It's sort of trying to talk with your lawyer, or something that just stepped off a flying saucer.

MOTO-CROSS



The "Too Much Fun" website is at URL:

http://www.laplayamotocross.com/

CALIENTITOS (Christmas fruit punch)

In Mexico , to the names of things we love we add ito or ita, to -- make them into a term of endearment. -- CALIENTITOS --,which literally means "little hot ones" is fruit punch made out of seasonal fruit and cinnamon with a shot of rum, brandy or tequila. It is made in a huge pot of "barro" (clay). and it is offered to pilgrims after each "posada", when they enter a home each night and after they are done with their chanting, sometimes it is offered along with tamales and beans. Here is one of many recipes:

INGREDIENTS:

1 1/2 kgm of tejocotes (small yellow tropical fruit, much like guabas)

2 kgm. sugar cane cut into pieces ( a must)

1 1/2 kgm. of yellow apples

1 1/2 kgm. of guayabas

1 12 kgm. of sugar

1 kgm. dried prunes

30 grams cinammon sticks

Rim of one orange, cut in small rectangles

2 cloves

30 dried jamaica flowers

6 liters water

Rum or brandy to taste

In boiling water, drop the tejocotes, bring to a boil, retire from fire. Peel their shell, rid of strings and seed. Fill a clay pot with the water and put it to high fire. Meanwhile, peel cane and cut in small pieces. When water comes to a boil, put the peeled tejocotes and the cane and boil for 45 minutes- Peel the applels and cut them in eights, peel and cut guayabas in quarters. Put them in the pot. After half an hour, add sugar, when it boils again, put the orange and the cinnamon.

CHAMPURRADO

A typical mexican drink made out of corn mass, chocolate and milk (or water) with a touch of cinammon, boiled until thick consistency. An absolute must to accompany tamales.

INGREDIENTS

3 liters of milk

1 liter of water

two chocolate cake bars ( ABUELITA OR IBARRA)

2 molasses cones (piloncillo)

2 cinnamon sticks

1-1/2 cups of corn mass (masa found at the bakery department of supermarket)

Bring water, cinnamon and piloncillo cone to a boil, until dissolved. Disolve corn mass in one liter of milk and add to boiling mixture. Last, drop the remaining milk and the chocolate bars and boil until dissolved to low flame, stirring with a wooden spoon, until reaching desired thickness. When done, we use a "molinillo" or wooden artifact with rings, insert it in pot and rub between hand palms to obtain a foam before serving.

(With thanks to Olivia Del Corral)

SAN NICHOLAS ISLAND

A first-person narrative by George Conrad

I once thought that, if you had to confront death, your own, more than a few times, that you’d become somewhat inured to it….. somehow be a little less halting in your stepping forward to meet it. This has not proven true of my own experience. I’ve been right up against it…. more than just a few times, and through those experiences have found an extremely keen appreciation of living; of wanting to live. As a result, I am extremely reluctant to share in, or appreciate, fashionable, sporting flirtations with elective, near-death experiences. I suspect that the fashion dissipates immediately upon the consummate experience by sporting individuals.

Every other week , over a period of nearly seven years, I made a four-day sea voyage to San Nicholas Island. During those voyages, more times than I can recount, I felt myself passing beyond a point of normal consciousness and into a state of mind which, marked in fractions of seconds of seemingly endless length, there no longer existed a future time. Simultaneously, I felt myself detach from my existence, almost in submission to an apparently inevitable end, and, at the same time, felt the acute intensity of focus necessary for my immediate survival .

San Nicholas Island is the South Western-most of an archipelago known as the Santa Barbara Channel Islands. San Nick , as it is more often called, is about 100 miles offshore, no longer really considered within coastal Pacific waters. It is a forward, strategic airbase for the U.S. Navy. One of a number of arteries of supply to the island is a tugboat and towed deck barge. I made over 150 trips to San Nick with that tug and barge, as its Chief Engineer.

Our cargoes varied from gratifyingly important strategic military equipment to hopelessly mundane barge loads of trash dumpsters loaded with ecologically unfriendly junk. Making the perilous crossing became an undertaking of seemingly appropriate risk when the cargo was of ostensible strategic importance, and of an importance demeaning and heartbreakingly disproportionate to the risk when the cargo was detritus deemed hazardous to indigenous wildlife.

Tugs towing barges make notoriously slow passages. Our normal itinerary was a 10 hour “leg” from Long Beach, California up the coast to Port Hueneme Naval Base. With weather out of the North, West, or Northwest, this leg has , at times, taken up to 20 hours….a very hard, pounding 20 hours. That leg is nearly always made at night, beginning shortly after midnight, Long Beach time. During the day of arrival at Port Hueneme, the Navy loads the barge with the cargo for the island. Around midnight the tug and barge depart on the second leg of the voyage, the more dangerous and wildly more miserable, pitching, rolling and slamming 10 to 15 hour open-ocean crossing , “in the trough,” with the weather abeam, to San Nick.

Sometime during the morning of arrival at the south side of the island, the tug “makes up” to the barge, an arrangement of three tightly snugged lines joining the two vessels “at the hip." Then, depending upon tide and surf conditions, the tug proceeds to drive the barge unto the beach, a ramp is dropped from the barge, and the cargo is “off-loaded.” Into the afternoon, “empty” return cargo is loaded unto the barge, and the tug repeats the crossing of the previous night, returning to Port Hueneme in the early hours of morning. After the “empties” are discharged, usually by evening or the next morning, the tug and barge return to Long Beach .

The landing of the barge upon the beach is an actual “amphibious” landing very like those attempted during World War II which were characterized by much tragic loss of lives and equipment. In such a landing one is performing an action which is categorically and entirely in opposition to all basic natural and evolved safe marine navigational practice. One is never advised to deliberately approach any exposed shore with his vessel, particularly into a surf line, and most particularly when it is not one’s intention to ground, roll over, sink, swamp, or otherwise wreck his vessel. We did this so routinely that we made it look easy. Others tried it and many suffered disastrous consequences.

The Santa Barbara Channel is infamous for having unpredictable and fierce local weather which is determinedly independent of the weather elsewhere along the coast. Mariners who work the Channel share a very wary respect for those waters. Even among seasoned and careful professionals there are regular injuries, drownings, and loss of life. Every evening, strong winds known as “Sundowners” roar offshore from the north and east out of coastal canyons, intersecting prevailing westerlies and creating a confused vortex which whips the ocean surface into a wild and ruthless chop. This chop is, most often, at cross purposes with large, prevailing westerly or southerly swells. The effects are all additive, and are consistently devastating to small vessels.

The company was paid by the Navy for a “trip” if we, as a minimum, showed up at the island. Weather might foreclose a landing, but the company never let any kind of weather prevent our “showing up.” So we always went , even after gale warnings were formally issued. All mariners know that when the sea birds huddle in the rearmost sheltered coves of a harbor that there is some very heavy weather outside the breakwater. So many times I had the sinking , forlorn feeling of resignation as we sailed out past all the birds, my jacket collar already jammed up under my chin against the howler, that we were probably the dumbest animals on the water, and we were going to get our asses kicked for it.

This, then, is the theater in which my shipmates and I all broadened our acquaintance with our fragile mortalities.

BIRDSALL

Bob Birdsall is a very nice guy….off the boat! On the boat he becomes a dangerous zombie. Bob has captained vessels of all description on many of the oceans of the world. One would think a man of this wealth of experience would make an ideal captain. Not so! Bob is an insomniac who spends his off-watch hours, when he should be replenishing himself, cleaning the boat. He is utterly neurotic about cleanliness. Without sleep, Bob soon becomes manifestly judgement-impaired, leading to a long history of near-fatal mishaps. Only the uninitiated will any longer sail with Bob. What follows was my initiation to Bob.

We were scheduled to depart Long Beach at midnight. Our tug , “Diane Foss:” 80 feet long, steel hulled, powered by twin 389 Caterpillar diesels. All non-propulsive power, for winches, fire and bilge pumps, lights is provided by one of two auxiliary diesel generator sets. Everything on the boat was old and very prone to breakdown , particularly these two generator sets which had seen very hard service. On the preceding trip, I’d “lost” one of the generators, and had put in a repair request. Here we are , almost two weeks later, ready to depart, and the electricians are down in the engine room working feverishly, and unsuccessfully, to get the ailing generator working.

I immediately informed the Captain, Bob Birdsall, that the vessel was not ready for sea…. that there was no way we were going to undertake this trip without the essential redundancy of the second generator. Bob was under a lot of pressure from company management to “go.” He was desperately afraid to go against their wishes, but recognized his, and my right and duty not to put to sea in an un-seaworthy vessel. Assuming we survived a mishap, the Coast Guard would fry us…..cancel our licenses and subject us to prosecution. Time wore on. The electricians and I had no success with the generator repair. 1 AM… 2AM… 3AM… Every half hour Bob would call the Port Captain, whose response was to rage at Bob and finally, around 4 AM, to tell him to put me off the boat, get a replacement for me and go!!

My crew mates looked so “stricken” that I might abandon them, that I stayed aboard and, under my protest, we departed with only one functioning power supply, no redundancy. If we lost the other generator we were dead!

The weather was awful, 35 mph winds, steady, in our face, with gusts which were much stronger. Large, close-coupled swells and a nasty wind chop. We beat into that for 12 hours, slamming and pitching. Everybody was sick. In that kind of weather it is worth your life to go up on deck. No doors or portholes can be open. There is no such thing as fresh air. The little atmosphere is laden with diesel and exhaust fumes. The first time somebody pukes, the smell travels instantly through the boat, and moments later, everybody is puking. The only relief is 12 hours away. The old sailing ship rule: “One hand for the ship…. one hand for yourself” is gospel. Moving around in the engine room was ridiculous. I would swing like a monkey from one handhold to the next, making my rounds and praying I wouldn’t have to attempt any underway repairs. The noise inside the boat: it’s like being inside a drum with the sea beating a furious and deafening cadence on the thin steel skin separating you from oblivion. Always, in the background, the reassuringly steady roar of the laboring engines.

When we finally made it into Port Hueneme, we were all sick and exhausted. I was unable to contract with any electricians to come down to the boat and work some more on the generator. The storm was actually worsening. Now, there were small craft and gale warnings issued. Nobody was moving……except us. We were going out at midnight. Birdsall was not going to have an “abort” logged against him. He has the right, and duty, as Captain “on site,” to delay departure for weather or mechanical reasons. He refused, despite my pleas, to consider such a delay. Even though I also had that power, I deferred foolishly to Bob’s judgment, not yet having convinced myself that he was “judgment impaired.” Off we went at midnight. The weather was so bad that the Marine Traffic Dispatcher repeated the storm warnings twice, probably thinking we hadn’t heard the first one. “Thank you. Diane Foss underway. Out”.

Now we were “in the trough,” crossing perpendicular to the winds and seas. This added furious rolling to the pitching and slamming. Fifteen hours of the slimy sweats you get when you’re scared and sick. Sleep is out of the question. Likewise eating. Forget reading! So you sit and stare at the bulkheads, make your rounds, try to exchange a cheering sentence or two with your watch mates, and watch the second hand of the clock creep inexorably towards the time when the motion and noise will stop.

We hove to in the San Nick anchorage at 0530, false dawn. The wind and surf conditions were abominable. The sky was low and black; the sea was roiling furiously, the gray-green color of slate. The wind was howling out of the southwest, exactly right to throw us up unto the beach, and the surf looked to be consistently over 5 feet. Three feet is the absolute, maximum abort height. Birdsall dithered while I waited out on the foredeck beneath his wheelhouse window.

“What do you think ?” he shouted to me over the wind noise.

“It’s fucked, Bob. Too much wind. Too much surf .”

He wanted to watch the conditions for awhile. I knew he was dreading having to go home and report an abort. I was sympathetic but steadfast. No way we were going up in this shit! After about ten more minutes of dithering, Birdsall yelled out to me that we were going to make up to the barge. Not good! He was going to go for it.

“Bob,” I practically spit the words at him. “I’ve been over here a million times. This is piss poor. We cannot make it in these conditions.”

“Stand by to make up.” The captain traditionally has the last word. It was as if Bob was in a trance. His movements were wooden. He was scared too. That made me feel even more isolated.

“Get the mate and the deckhand ready to board the barge.” On a four man crew, those two men manned the barge, performing the actual mooring of the barge to the beach and the ramp-dropping operations. That left me to cover the bow and stern winches, and the mid-ship barge line called a Spring. I got the other two guys and they scrambled aboard the barge as we pitched and bumped our bow against it. I passed the headline and spring to the men aboard the barge, fighting the pitching and rolling deck the whole time. Salt spume was flying into my eyes and making it very painful to see. I leaped up the two ladders to the flying bridge to stand by Bob and be prepared to do whatever needed doing. The boat advanced slowly towards the beach, now only about 75 yards distant. Bob was frozen to the controls, not able apparently to devote any attention to communicating. A set of three huge waves crashed unto the beach at our landing site.

“Diane Foss. SNI beach. Abort! Abort! Those last waves were over six feet. ” That was the voice of the Navy Beach master on the radio. He was saying that, even though the Navy was now going to have to pay for our trip, since we’d shown up, they were aborting the landing because the conditions were so unsafe. I saw Lou, a fine deckhand and shipmate, crawling precariously towards us along the deck edge of the barge. He too had heard the abort order, and was dutifully coming back to throw off the barge lines so we could get back into towing position and get the hell out of there. Lou was on all fours. That’s how badly the 300 foot long barge was bucking in the seas. Lou, prepared to cut polypropylene lines twelve inches in circumference if he had to, had his little four-inch knife clasped between his teeth.

Out of the right corner of my vision I saw Birdsall’s hands push the throttles forward to their stops.

Incredulous, I shouted at him . “The fuckeryadoin Bob? We just got aborted by the beach!”

“I’m gonna go for it.”, he muttered with a dazed, almost drugged look on his face.

“Fuck! I’m going down on deck to take in the lines.” I leaped down the ladders unto the main deck. At that moment I saw a set of, maybe three, maybe more, huge waves approaching us from behind. It looked like the Banzai Pipeline. The first wave hit us and swept our deck, waist-deep water knocking me against the deck house. With a sudden lurch and a rending groan, I felt the bow line let go. I thought the strain of the wave impact had probably parted the 12 inch line. As a second wave gathered to break onto the deck, I felt , then saw, the boat hang precariously from the middle ( spring ) line. We were trapped; pinned to the barge in such a way that it was impossible for the boat to maneuver to escape or tow the barge off the beach. The spring line had to be released immediately or we were going to be swamped and sunk. The wave hit with full force. I was half flung, half staggered down the starboard main deck to where I knew the aft fire axe was hanging on the deck house. The only way to save the vessel and ourselves was to chop the spring line free. I had visions of the large line exploding in my face as they were known to do when chopped under great strain. Grabbing the axe, I moved up the wildly tilted and pitching deck, intending to go through the deck house to reach the spring line. I saw my unflappable shipmate Lou reaching for his knife. He was going to try to saw the line with that tiny blade. He would be killed. Incredibly, there was a sudden explosion . “Boom!” Then a cloud of white polypropylene particles obscured my objective. The brand new 12 inch spring line had parted explosively under the strain. We were free. Lou was OK. Blinking white rope bits out of his eyes and looking like he’d seen twenty ghosts, but OK. I ran aft and threw off the air brake on the stern wire, and as the air ram released with a loud clank and hiss, I felt the boat come to full power and make a hard right turn out of there. Taking strain on the stern wire, the boat pulled the barge away from the beach into the relatively safer deep water. The sickening, random motion subsided. I leaned against the deck house and listened to my heart beating faster than I believed possible. I felt dizzy, sick. As my adrenelin levels slowly returned to normal, we hove up to the barge and recovered the other half of our crew. They were pretty badly shaken. There had been serious structural damage done to the barge. In a matter of minutes we had passed within seconds of sinking, swimming, probable injuries and possible death, in trouble, as usual, through stupidity. Out of trouble, as usual, through dumb, blind luck. The company got their money. We got to make the fifteen hour trip home through the storm.

Everyone was very pissed off. I stomped into the wheelhouse to rip into Birdsall. Before I could even open my mouth, Lou , who has many more years at sea than any of us, and rarely says more than three words at one utterance, launched into a virtuoso rant about what a stupid, and lucky, sonovabitch Birdsall was. The speech seemed to last several minutes and used some cuss words I think were new to me at the time. Lou said all that needed saying. That happened sixteen years ago. Almost one year to the day later, Birdsall repeated, almost exactly, the whole disasterous script, incredibly. Since then, very few of us are willing to step off the dock with Bob.

He’s still a helluva nice guy ashore.

(Edited by Patrick Mullen)
------------------------------------------
"There are idiots in every occupation but some occupations are more dangerous than others." - Harold E. Detwiler

Neighborhood Watch - San Antonio del Mar

Here is a little burglar information for you.

In a recent conversation with one of the security guards, I learned that a home located close to the beach was apparently burglarized by a boater/s who took household articles from the home and loaded them onto a waiting boat located on the San Antonio del Mar Beach. They couldn't get some of the heavier stuff into the boat and left it on the beach.

The preferred entry method for car thieves into San Antonio is apparently still via taxi.

Pat Mullen

.docx files

"... I have learned that there is a free microsoft download (not well advertized) that enables .docx files (the new standard MS Word file for Office 2007) to be converted into .doc files which can then be read and edited using legacy Office versions.

John Ford, MD, MPH

http://califmedicineman.blogspot.com

Running Any Program on Vista/backwards compatibility

Posted by: "jerry allen": (usdprof2002 at yahoo dot com) on [illinoisdigitalham] Digest Number 740, (illinoisdigitalham at yahoogroups dot com)

"Thu Nov 22, 2007 12:27 pm (PST)


MicroSoft is not broadcasting how to run legacy programs on
vista. They want you to buy new software.

Find the program you wish to run using windows explorer (ether install
or click copy into computer ) - use computer on the pop up menu when
you click on start (windows logo in lower left corner)

Find the application program you want to run (Usually under Program
Files)

Right Click on the application program

Left click on properties (bottom choice in pop menu)

Left click on Compatibility (second tab from left)

Click on "Run this program in compatibility mode" and select the
operating system you want to run the program under.

Many programs will also need 256 colors and 640 x480 checked to run
properly

MAKE SURE YOU CHECK "Run this program as an administrator" - need if
software writer took "short cuts" in original program.

I have not found a program that would not run on Vista - back to
windows 95 programs that will not run on XP or 2000."

411 service Stateside for free!!

Here's a Freebie we all can use ans also save $$$$

( Some 411 Information services charge $1 or more per request ! )

Google now has free Telephone Directory Service. The service will work from any phone and is great for hands free connection when you are driving.

( This will become very useful when CA bans hand held cel phones when driving in 2008)


Dial 1 800 466-4411
( or 1 800 GOOG 411 for those who can still remember things !)


It works great with voice commands:

If you are on a cel that has text messaging feature, you can say the word "TEXT" and it will send address and phone number to your cel

If you just want to hear the address and number just the word "DETAIL" then after either, just hang on and it will proceed to dial the number for you.

ALL FREE

( Well, we're all wondering if this neat service will remain free but enjoy while it is )

A friend of mine recently found the free service very handy when his car broke down while out of town on a trip and he needed a tow. Not having a 800 number to call like AAA Automobile club, he called the GOOG 411 number and just said the name of the town in the area and then said "Automobile Towing" and it gave him half a dozen choices. ( There were no highway emergency call boxes nearby )


If this neat Google service starts charging, there is also another free Telephone Directory Service number but it makes you listen to some short advertisement messages.

1 800 373-3411

Dennis

(note: Non-emergency towing and roadside breakdown service can usually be found by contacting the California Highway Patrol at 1-800-TELL CHP, Pat)

Towing

A towing service can be summoned on NEXTEL. The driver's name is Gerardo and his number is 152*171286*1. He has a large tilt-bed.

A neighbor of mine had a problem with his transmission today in Rosarito. After a prolonged period of time, he was able to contact Gerardo.

Loaves and Fishes

I just received a family newsletter from Ryerson & Anne Clark who live in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, Canada. It has nothing at all to do with Baja California, but it had a couple of items I felt were of interest to all.

Their newsletter is entitled "Dancing with Bears" and usually includes great photography and appropriate commentary:




Baked Arctic Char

There are many ways to prepare a lovely fish like this. You can cook it the same as any salmon and it looks the same as salmon in colour. The taste is clean and bit more favorful than salmon.

Both the Inuit and the Dene people suggested this method of baking.

Clean the fish and oil the outside of it. Thinly slice lemon and onion and lay the slices on the top of the fish. You can use a rice stuffing if you like. I think the good old Betty Crocker Cookbook tells you how to make the stuffing.

Wrap in foil and bake as you would a salmon for weight and temperature.

This fellow will serve six or more. Dinner anyone?

This big fellow seen above is an Arctic Char from Hudson's Bay and they are yummy! It was brought to us last week by an Inuit friend who lives in Arviat. George was brought up on the land and only moved to the village in his early 20s or so. He does very well in his business but also still lets the land provide.

(Ryerson is a professional photographer. Anne is a project manager in NW Territories for the Canadian Government.) Ryerson's website is at URL:

http://web.mac.com/ryersonclark/iWeb/Ryerson/Welcome.html

Handcuffed kids steal U.S. border agent's car

(Edited news article)

Wed Sep 26, 11:25 AM ET

MONTERREY, Mexico (Reuters) - Three Mexican minors detained in California on suspicion of smuggling drugs stole a U.S. Border Patrol car while still wearing handcuffs and drove it back across the border to Mexico.

Police in the Mexican border city of Mexicali said on Tuesday the three boys had been driving a pick-up truck on a remote Californian highway when a Border Patrol agent stopped them.

Suspicious they were carrying marijuana, he handcuffed them and put them in his patrol car while he searched their truck.

"As the agent was doing his search, he left the vehicle running and the keys in the ignition, so one of the lads, still wearing handcuffs, grabbed the steering wheel and they headed back to Mexico," a police spokesman said. The Border Patrol confirmed the vehicle was stolen in southern California on Sunday and driven over the border near Mexicali.

Mexican police used a helicopter to locate the patrol vehicle in a remote agricultural area near the border.

The original article is at URL: http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20070926/od_nm/mexico_usa_theft_dc_2;_ylt=AhC8GjxR07KwU5qiClucmagL1vAI

God rest this brave hero's soul

Where were the Tijuana Police??

(scroll down for English translation)

"Asesinan a un policía en el estado mexicano de Baja California

Tijuana (México), 22 sep (EFE).- Un agente de la Policía Estatal Preventiva (PEP) del estado de Baja California, en el noroeste mexicano, fue asesinado hoy junto con un vecino en la ciudad de Tijuana por un grupo de desconocidos.

Autoridades estatales confirmaron la muerte del agente estatal Carlos Horacio Morales Méndez, de 24 años, y de su vecino Misael Rodríguez Hernández, de 28, quienes fueron obligados a salir de sus respectivos hogares por un grupo de sicarios en el barrio La Morita, al este de la ciudad, quienes después los asesinaron en plena vía pública.

La Procuraduría del Estado informó de que los hechos ocurrieron en la madrugada de este sábado y que los atacantes utilizaron armas de calibre .223 AR-15 y nueve milímetros.

En la escena del crimen las autoridades encontraron alrededor de 130 casquillos percutidos.

El agente de la Policía Estatal Preventiva ingresó a las filas de esa corporación policíaca en septiembre de 2006 y era originario del estado de Chiapas, sureste de México.

Según las autoridades, Morales Méndez es el quinto agente asesinado en el presente año en el estado de Baja California."
________________________________________________




Police officer murdered in the Mexican state of Baja California


Tijuana (Mexico), on September 22 (EFE) .- An agent of the State Preventive Police (PEP) of the state of Baja California, in the Mexican northwest, was murdered today together with a neighbor in the city of Tijuana by a group of strangers.

State authorities confirmed the death of the state agent 24-year-old Carlos Horacio Morales Méndez, and of his neighbor 28-year-old Misael Rodríguez Hernández, who were forced to go out of their respective homes by a group of assassins in barrio La Morita, to the east of the city (Tijuana); the assassins later murdered them in public view.

The Lawyer's office of the State informed that these events happened at dawn this Saturday and that the attackers used caliber .223 AR-15 and nine millimeter weapons.

Authorities found about 130 spent cartridges at the scene of the crime.

The State Preventive Police agent joined this police office in September, 2006 and was a native the state of Chiapas, southeast of Mexico City.

According to the authorities, Morales-Méndez is the fifth agent murdered this year in the state of Baja California.

TIJUANA POLICE EXTORTION ACTIVITY - SEPTEMBER 2007

A recent news article indicates that extortion activity by the Tijuana Police has recently moved to the entryway to the U.S. border crossing just yards away from the International border at the San Ysidro Port of Entry.

A Tijuana police cruiser was observed blocking the taxi access to the pedestrian drop-off at the SENTRI lane. The taxis were forced to drop their customers off at the first bridge which goes over the SENTRI lane. The area is unlit and remote from the pedestrian walkway.

Police are "searching" and robbing people, principally pedestrians, of money in this area during nighttime and early morning hours.

No specific dates or times of these occurrences were provided.

Additional information regarding this and other Tijuana Police Department antics can be found in the September 20, 2007, edition of the Gringo Gazette, as well as Tijuana Spanish-language newspapers.

Please be advised that the asylum inmates are loose again; and they have their guns now.

Antenna, Yagi, 430-450 MHz 7.5 dB

I received this his note from N6KI: n6ki at sbcglobal dot net:

"Very well made black anodized with
excellent mounting hardware
( Not shown in Ad )

A ham friend showed me one of these he bought from same guy on EBAY

Bluewave Yagi 430-450 MHz 7.5 dB Microwave Antenna NEW

*EBAY Item number: **250166395902 *

They appear to bid for around $20 and he wrote me
that he has 20 in stock and I can bid on 1 then in shipping instructions
tell him how many I want and am now trying to get him to commit
to amortize the shipping cost as I don't want to pay $15 each for shipping !

For those of you who are not local in San Diego area,
At $35 each ( cost + ship ), they are still a great deal over what you
can buy commercially !

This sucker looks like it will take 100 mph winds and coating should
resist any corrosion for LONG time.

Comes with N connector

The welds where elements go thru boom are perfect

Right now, I am going to buy at least 4 of these from the seller and am
waiting to
get a shipping discount as normally he wants $15 each to ship

I bet he can pack em all in 1 big box and amortize shipping

Ed KG6UTS did a plot on them at his work on his Giga-Buck
antenna Analyzer and says they check out fine with SWR
at stated Freq.

Frequency Range - 430-450 MHz
Nominal Gain (dBi > 1GHz) - 7.5 dBd
Power Rating - 250W
Length - About 2-3 ft.
Width - 3.13 in
Height - 17.5 in
Antenna Weight - 4lbs
Rated Wind Velocity - 125 mph
Rated Wind Velocity with 1/2" Radial Ice - 120 mph

Connector - N-type

Anyway, let me know if you want any.


73, Dennis N6KI"

Hijackings, assaults, and beatings on HWY 1D, Northern Baja California

I have recently received three Emails recently regarding four hijackings and assaults on HWY 1D/Bulevar International. Two apparently occurred on the border road between the San Ysidro border crossing and the toll booth near Playas de Tijuana (K10 on hwy 1D). Another occurred on the northbound lane of the HWY 1D toll road between San Marino and Real del Mar (K19.5 - K23). Also, the third Email describes a Tijuana policeman setting up an ATM machine sting when a group of American surfers, who had just been carjacked, approach him for assistance.

I have a couple of questions regarding the hijacking on the toll road (Real del Mar-San Marino): Since the Tijuana and Rosarito police departments seem to be engaged in a procedural dance around the jurisdiction issue, why haven't the Federal highway police been contacted? Isn't HWY 1D their jurisdiction? Or, is there some arcane point of Mexican law of which I am unaware?

The Tijuana police evidently are unable to enforce any sort of law enforcement functionality on Bulevar International (Zona Rio/el Mirador areas) since there were two hijackings there within a short period of time. In addition, they are apparently continuing to fleece down American tourists. Does anyone know of any steps being taken to correct that issue? If Mexican law enforcement officials are going to roll over for the Mexican border gangs there, those of us traveling south of Playas must choose alternate routes.

It should be noted that once the Mexican Army outpost on that route was vacated, the hijackings began. Are the Tijuana police of any use whatsoever? Perhaps they should just stay home.

It could be inferred, from the description of these incidents, that the same gang was involved in each of the carjackings. I wonder if it is the same bunch that ambushed the State Police chief recently?

The first letter is from a local resident

This morning, Friday August 24, 2007, at 5:20AM, my husband was driving on the Toll Road towards San Diego from Rosarito ; and a car, possibly a Chevy Caprice or a Ford Crown Victoria (it was a big sedan, with police lights, red and blue, mounted on the rear-view mirror, with flashing headlights---as it was dark, he couldn't tell what color the vehicle was) followed him and stopped him at San Marino.

Since my husband was driving a little over the speed limit, he thought it was the Federal Police that was going to give him a citation. As soon as he stopped, another car, silver-colored (this one was illuminated by the lights from his vehicle), similar to a Dodge Neon, pulled up in front of him impeding his escape.

Two men who were riding in the small car, not in uniform, shoved a gun at my husband's face (32 caliber, semi-automatic), at the same time that the individuals in the vehicle behind ours got out of their car. There were about 4 or 5 of them in that vehicle and they were not uniformed either. He saw 3 with guns but doesn't know if the other men (a total of 7) were armed or not.

They dragged my husband out of his car, hit him, threw him in the back seat on the floor while they were hitting him in the back, as two men were holding his wrists and another man was going through his pockets, taking also his watch and two rings, including his wedding band. He had $450US and about $950Pesos, his American Passport, his reading glasses which he had hanging from his t-shirt, his wallet with the driver's license, credit cards, etc., the two cell phones.

All of this was happening while one of the men started driving my husband's car, still going North. They stopped about 5 miles later, on the shoulder right past the Real del Mar exit, where they threw him out of the car violently without giving him a chance to get his feet out from under him, but he was able to hold on to the security rail and pushed himself to the other side of the rail, landing in a ditch; this avoided them running him over with the back tires.

From there he saw them take off in his car and all its contents: his FM3, backpack, including a couple of high-amount checks in US Dollars, other belongings

Then my husband walked, as well as he could muster, up the hill to the Marriott where he called me and the Police Departments in Rosarito as well as in Tijuana, giving them the report.

They told him that a patrol car from Tijuana would go to the Marriott to talk to him. 45 minutes later my husband called the Tijuana Police back and they informed him that no patrol car was going to the Marriott and that he would have to report the carjacking to the Ministerio Publico. Since he was stopped in Rosarito proper, but dumped in Tijuana proper, it's going to have to be reported to both municipalities.

As soon as my husband called me I contacted dear friends of ours who live at Real del Mar and he went to keep him company and drove him home.

I called our car insurance company, and they were very helpful. They immediately sent an adjuster to our home and he left us a list of the documentation required to report the carjacking to all the entities, giving us directions on how to get there. We are very thankful to them for their quick response and to their adjuster, Mr. Raul Josua Lima Castillo for his excellent assistance at this horrendous occasion.

We are now mired in calling insurance companies, banks, cell phone companies, etc. to report the theft, and will start the long road to all the governmental offices: the Ministerio Publico, Municipal Police, Fiscal Police, Federal Police, and California Highway Patrol for we had California plates.

When I called our Rosarito bank, I was informed that last week the same thing happened to other clients of theirs, around 2AM on the free road to Tijuana.

I've had the pleasure of meeting our new Municipal President, Mr. Hugo Torres, and I would like to notify him of this outrage and ask him that something be done to avoid these scary thefts during his Administration.

We are very thankful to God that these men didn't shoot or kill my husband.

Thank you,

Name withheld


Message # 2:
-----Original Message -----


From: MexicoVisitor Group


To: mexicoexpo@yahoo.com


Sent: Wednesday,
September 05, 2007 3:57 PM


Subject: Affecting Baja Tourism


Greetings Everyone:

Sorry to send a group email, but as you all know I have many contacts with both people in Baja
California and visitors to the peninsula from the Baja Talk Radio show and the websites I
promote. I received two disturbing emails within a week of each other from people on my Mexico mailing list.

Since all of your are important promoters of Baja California, I thought you should be aware of these two recent emails I received. I assume they are true as I have heard from other email contacts about these events happening recently.

If you are already aware of this, sorry for the extra email. I haven't seen it in the press, but it could affect tourism in Baja.

These are two separate, scary incidents that happened this summer and will impact tourism. Neither person wants their information put out so you have to take it for what it's worth. Again, I can not verify if they are true, but I would rather be cautious and send you the information.

Well I've been traveling Baja all of my life and I've finally had to witness the worst...

At 3:00am we had just crossed the Border at Tijuana, My buddy and myself in my F350 and two other guys in their small Chevy Pu. I was the lead car. Just as we were going up the steep hill along the border fence I noticed that the other truck was getting pulled over.. So I slowed at came to a stop just up the road. Seconds later a grey Ford Explorer No plates pulled in front of my truck. Two men quickly got out of the car guns drawn coming towards me...I quickly hit the gas and was able to get out of there..It seems that they chased us for a short time but never caught us.. We eventually got far enough away where we felt safe(kinda) and my phone rang.. My wife had the other guys on the phone and they were completely robbed all the way down to their wedding rings..Luckily they had family just blocks away and were safe and on the way to the border(without Truck)..

Please be careful, my father in law works in TJ for the PGR and according to him this is not an isolated incident in this area.. But the good news is none have been reported in daylight hours so please be smart..IT CAN HAPPEN TO YOU.

Email #3:

The following is an excerpt from a recent article in "Surfer Magazine."
The incident Occurred on August 31, 2007.

The entire article appears at URL:
<http://surfermag.com/features/onlineexclusives/carjackedmexicobaja/> (September 9, 2007)

They crossed the border at 4:30 a.m. and preceded toward the toll road, driving along the well-worn road that hugs the border and then climbs the steep hill toward the Tijuana beaches, the bullring and coastal destinations further south. It is the road that everyone who has ever traveled into Northern Baja has been on. And the guys were fired up and optimistic as they followed the road south and descended less than half a mile from the USA/Mexico border. Then the blue lights hit their rear view mirror. Cops.

They were being pulled over. "This stuff comes with the territory," explained Roger. "Duke and I didn't feel the least bit apprehensive; pay the cop for whatever bullshit reason he comes up with and move on. Good surf awaited." The three surfers knew the drill; this area is notorious for the $40 Mexican cop shakedown. Duke, who was driving the Honda Ridgeline and leading the two-truck caravan handed all his cash to Roger--except for $40 to pay-off the cop.

"Open the door, " the cop said to Roger as he rolled down the passenger window. A handgun pointed at Roger's eyes. "Open the f-ing door," the cop said a second time as he slammed the gun against Roger's right temple, reached in and pulled the door open.

As this unfolded, Walt, in the truck behind them and doing his duty as back driver in the caravan, pulled over behind Duke's Honda Ridgeline and watched in the still, dusky light. 'It immediately looked strange to me," explained Walt. "The cops came out of their truck with their guns drawn. My first thought is that they were looking for drugs. I thought this wasn't going to be a situation where we get out of it with a bribe."

Within a minute there were two other cops/thugs all over Walt, demanding that he get out of the truck, before simply reaching in and unlocking the door.

In the meantime Roger, the passenger in the front vehicle, was being dragged out of the truck by his shirt at gunpoint. The Mexican carjacker was wearing a cut-off black wetsuit ski mask. "I offered the guy my wallet, " explained Roger. "At this point I knew this was serious and I offered him everything we had, the car our money, everything."

While this transpired Duke the driver of the Ridgeline also had a gun to his head and was being lead out of the car.

With a black semi-automatic gun to his head, Roger was led to the roadside guardrail by the masked man and into a dark, open lot with a formidable cliff 30 yards away.

Again Roger tried to reason with carjacker. "Take my money," he said and handed him the $200 Duke had given him earlier. The carjacker directed Roger further into the darkness. Roger was getting closer to the cliff and deeper into the darkness. Again he tried to fend off the attacker with money. "I reached into my second pocket and threw a wad of cash at him," explained Roger. "The $240 I had for the trip. It fell to the ground and the attacker looked down, grabbed a wad full and left the stray twenty dollar bills. He looked down at the remaining bills--$60 or $80 dollars-then looked at me, jerked me forward again. He wasn't interested."

Again Roger pleaded with the man to leave him alone. The attacker's dark brown eyes stared at Roger and then twitched. "I think he was high-- on coke or something," explained the Roger. "His eyes were twitching. The man then continued to lead me further away from the others, into the darkness."

All sorts of thoughts raced through Roger's head. "I wondered if I should run. Would he shoot me? I was living in the moment. Instinct drove me, for better or for the worse."

At the edge of the 100-foot cliff the man stopped Roger and stared him down. Below was darkness--a 100-foot cliff, trash and debris. Roger stood facing the street, his back against the pending overhang.

Meanwhile Walt, in the truck behind Duke and Roger, was dealing with his own nightmare. "One of the Mexicans jumped in next to me pushed his cocked gun into my face pushing my head onto the dashboard," explained Walt. The cops or carjackers or Federales --nobody is really sure what they were or are--demanded that Walt get out. "The thug on the passenger side grabbed my shirt and put me over the road-side guardrail," explained Walt. The Mexican forced Walt's head over the guardrail and cocked the gun against the back of his head. Walt was waiting to die. Walt glanced up and out of the corner of his eye saw Roger down on his knees over by the cliff with a gun pointing on him.

"That's when I thought, 'I'm not going to let this guy shoot me here,'" explained Walt. "It wasn't a heroic action by any means. I just wanted to move out, so I pushed myself up off the guardrail and started walking toward the big ravine that divides the USA from Mexico.

That's really when I thought, this is it, my life was over." Walt figured the Mexican thug was going to shoot him in the back. After five feet or so, and without hearing from the man holding a gun to his back, Walt started jogging in a zigzag motion toward the cliff, hoping that if the attacker did start firing his gun, perhaps he would miss him. His plan was to jump off the cliff; at
least he had half a chance that way.

The masked attacker that held Roger at gunpoint ordered him to get on his hands and knees and crawl down the cliff. It wasn't a straight drop, but more of a steep incline. Roger groveled down until he found a ledge. He stood and looked up at the mask.

"It was dark, but I could see. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness. It would be light in about an hour,' explained Roger. "The masked man stood there, with the gun pointed at my chest, both hands on the grip. I was now looking up, maybe five feet below his feet."

The mask looked to his left as if awaiting a signal from the other thugs. He again stared down Roger and again turned to his left. This time he took his right hand off the handle and pulled the barrel forward and then back, cocking the gun. He inserted a bullet. The gun was now pointed down directly at Roger's chest. The man in the mask turned and shot the gun, just above horizon towards the street. He said something, which Roger couldn't make out and jogged slowly towards the vehicles.

Roger looked over to his left and saw Walt hunched over some twenty yards away. The two saw each other, said nothing. After waiting 30 seconds, maybe a minute, Roger and Walt ascended the cliff. "This cliff is a big cliff, and it's right on the border and as it got light we could see America on one side and we're in Mexico,"explained Roger. "We were just sort of freaking out. It was surreal. They could have easily killed us and no one would have known. The two walked up to their friend Duke and the three said nothing. They were in shock. But at least it was over.

Or so they thought.

There was van across the street, an older model van. Beat up. Rickety. Broken down. The kind of vehicle you often see in Mexico.

There next to the van was its owner, an old Mexican man. The three surfers yelled out to the old man in Spanish and he acknowledged that he saw the entire ambush. "He said he was scared for us, but that he could do nothing because of his age," explained Roger. "We ran over to him and the man opened up the sliding door of his van and Duke and I immediately jumped in, but
Walt was adamant about not getting in this guys' van. "The last thing I wanted to do was get in some strangers old van," explained Walt. "It didn't feel right."

Walt eventually acquiesced and reluctantly hopped in the van. The old man closed the van door and the three surfers looked at each other anxiously like, 'was this a good idea?' Their sole focus was to get to the border, and this vehicle was going to get them there.

At this point Roger notices that there is a young man in his 20's sitting in the passenger seat. "The fact that a younger guy was in the passenger seat which sort of freaked us a bit," explained Walt. "After getting carjacked at gunpoint by Federales we didn't really trust anyone."

The old man turned over the engine in his van and it immediately started up. "I thought it was supposed to be broken," explained Roger. "So I start thinking was this guy involved. It was very weird."

The old man, the three surfers and the van start rolling down the hill, with the USA on their left and the sun rising brightly. At the bottom of the hill where the street next to the border fence flattens out, and less than a half mile from the carjacking, a Tijuana Police officer had pulled over a truck. A flat bed truck. The kind of flatbed truck that you tow other trucks with.

The three surfers tell the old man to stop his van. "We got out of the van to tell the cop about our carjacking incident," explained Walt. The cop then did something rather unusual. He picked up his cell phone and made a call. He didn't use his official police communications radio installed on his police truck. "I didn't think much about it at the time, but thinking back on it, it seems strange," explained Roger.

The three American surfers asked the officer to take them immediately to the border to file a report of the incident. "The cop tells us to get in the back of his police truck and we thought we were going to the border," explains Roger.

But to the surfers dismay the policeman turns onto Avenida Revolucion into the seediest part of Tijuana and pulls over. The surfers demand that he take them straight to the border.

The cop refuses. He suggests they get some cash (Duke still had a hidden credit card) from the ATM machine and hire a taxi to take them to the border. By this time the surfers are nervous, restless, and paranoid. They ask the TJ police officer to please file report on the incident but he refuses telling them that the incident happened outside of his jurisdiction.

Fed up with the lack of regard for their situation, the surfers climb out of the cop's truck and start walking toward the ATM machine so they can get cash for a taxi to the border. They spot another TJ police officer walking the street beat. It's 5:30am on Avenida Revolucion in Tijuana and all sorts of sketchy people are around. Whores. Street people. Thugs. Drunks. The cop is on patrol to keep some sense of order. She is genuinely kind and concerned for the three Americans, and she directs Duke to the ATM kiosk.

Duke walks into the ATM machine kiosk and immediately two guys follow him into the ATM machine. "I was very nervous about it," said Walt. "The woman cop ran over to Duke and basically guarded him from these two guys."

With cab fare in hand and their focus still on the getting to the USA the surfers, with the help of the cop, hail a taxi. The women cop tells the cab driver to bring the Americans to the border and to not stop for anyone. "That part was little odd," explained Walt. "It was like she knew something was going to happen."

Walt, Duke and Roger got in the taxi and headed towards the USA, maybe three miles away from the border. "The cab took us on a one way street toward the border. Not unusual, I don't think," explained Walt. "Then I hear a loud truck barreling down the street behind us. It's going
like 60, maybe 70 MPH."

The Nissan Frontier cuts directly in front of the taxi,slams on its brakes and skids to a stop in front of the Americans in the taxi, blocking it from going forward. "We all started screaming "Go! Go! Go!," explained Roger. "It was scene right of the movie'Traffic.'"

Then another vehicle, a VW Tourig, loaded up with four Mexicans, screeches up behind the taxi and boxes it in from behind. The cab couldn't move. All three surfers are screaming at the cab driver to move out.

Serendipitously, the driver positioned the cab in a manner so that she could escape from the two pursuing vehicles and the taxi bolted full speed to the border.

Carjacked and kidnapped and contracted for death, at this point the three American Surfers were completely spun. The would-be kidnappers pursued, but there were other cars around by this time as the commute across to the USA was filling up traffic.

They paid the taxi driver and bolted a hundred yards or so to the pedestrian crossing. They attempted to tell another Mexican police officer but again, no help. They crossed the border. They called 911. They called their wives. They were safe at last.

In hindsight Duke, Walt and Roger believe the masked carjacker was a police officer. According to the three, that may explain why he wore a mask and the other carjackers did not.

Another interesting note: According to the surfers, the carjackers all spoke fine English, with barely a trace of an Hispanic accent. The carjacking was very professional, and went down with a strategic polish one might see in the military. "These guys were pros, " explains Walt.
"Their guns were drawn and they were on us fast. Even if we had a gun, there is no way we could have acted."

Mexico has always been a scary place. According to one report, more journalists have died in Mexico than in Iraq.

It's the Wild West. It is not safe. "I'll never drive into Mexico again. I've been surfing in northern Baja for over 20 years and I'll never go back," explained Roger. "There is nobody that cares about you.

Nobody. You are all alone and the bad guys are the good guys and the good guys...well there aren't any."

Radio Equipment for sale

I have for sale for The Northern California DX Foundation, The following:

1 Icom IC 756 PRO with Mike and Box

1 Kenwood TS 940 S with Box and book

1 Collins 30L1 Winged with Book

1 Yaesu 780 R all Mode 440 rig with 70 watt Brick

If you are interested contact me directly not on the reflector

Chuck, N6OJ

n6oj at sbcglobal dot net

707-778-9150

The number is in the shack. There is no answering machine. Just try again if there is no answer.

Chuck, N6OJ

Wire, insulated

I have a lead on #8 AWG Stranded PVC Insulated wire on a 2000 ft spool( There is also a 2500 foot spool available ). It has been in stored in a building. BTW, It is dark pinkish colored. Seller is asking 30 cents foot or Best Offer.

Anyone interested. I could use 300 FT.

Dennis

n6ki at sbcglobal dot net

Musica Mariachi

SPANISH CLASSES

The classes at the UABC Rosarito Campus which were scheduled to start on Tuesday, September 4, have been cancelled due to lack of sufficient enrollment.

The tuition fees which have been collected will be reimbursed.

SPANISH CLASS UPDATE - UABC

I was told today that registration forms for the class will be available 12 Noon Monday, August 27, at the Palacio in Rosarito. Go to the Foreign Residents Assistance Office located on the east side of the second floor. Specific information for the start date of the class will be available then; apparently, during the week of 27 August.

The forms will be uniquely numbered for each student for the purpose of crediting the student's tuition payment. In order to be assigned a registration form, please indicate your desire to attend by contacting Professor Joaquin Chavez:
<lobotmex@gmail.com> immediately.

The tuition is $ 2,900 pesos, payable to the University Cashier in Tijuana.

The present class schedule is 2-hour sessions, from 9-11 AM, Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays, for a total of 78 hours (three months).

Playas de Rosarito Recycling Program drop off at Olde Vic Theatre (3 blocks west of Waldo's)

I really want to thank everyone, on behalf of the Rosarito Theatre Guild, for your support of our recycling program. Today we were able to fill a Van with recyclables. This will help the theatre, and is also great for the environment.

There are a few guidelines I would like to go over. We cannot take colored plastic which includes the white bleach containers/ milk containers, or the red, yellow or blue oil/ or auto fluid bottles, etc, tin cans, cat food containers, vegetable cans or soup cans. Only the aluminum cans.

There are 4 barrels at the theatre, 1 each for:

aluminum cans

clear plastic

clear glass

colored glass

We do ask that you please rinse your containers (to keep the ants away). If you have your items bagged, please separate them when you drop them off. If they are already separated you may leave them in the bags in which you transported them. It would be helpful if you crush your aluminum cans but is not essential.

There may not be anyone at the theatre on Monday afternoons for the next month, but there will be someone there on Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons. If you go to the theatre and no one is there, please leave your bags on the east side of the building and we will put them in when we get there.

You may also contact any board member to arrange a time to drop your items off. Unfortunately, the board members are not able to pick recyclables up from individual locations.

If you need contact information for the board members, please e-mail at jobobbi at gmail dot com or call 664-609-3137

Best Regards,

BJ Saragosa

Migrating from Mexico

Mexico is the only country I know of which has a Migration Office, viz., a governmental organization that assists people who want migrate out of the country. I have included an updated news article about this office, el Instituto Nacional de Migración (INM) in the original Spanish text, which contains some remarkable information. For those desiring to view an English text, it follows the Spanish.

The question which follows is, is there a governmental office in Mexico dedicated to assist the people who want to stay here, or, are we all expected to leave sometime soon?

"México incrementará los Grupos Beta de apoyo a inmigrantes en su ruta a EE.UU.México, 16 ago (EFE).

México aumentará de dieciséis a 23 los Grupos Beta que proporcionan ayuda humanitaria a los inmigrantes indocumentados en su ruta a Estados Unidos, debido a que el flujo migratorio está moviéndose por otros caminos por diversos factores, entre ellos el climatológico, dijo a Efe una fuente oficial.

Actualmente los Grupos Beta, integrados por un promedio de diez personas entre empleados administrativos, socorristas y médicos, operan en ocho estados del país, cinco de la frontera con Estados Unidos, dos de la frontera con Guatemala y uno en el estado de Veracruz (Golfo de México).

La meta de aumentar los grupos está fijada para 2012 y obedece en parte a que los flujos migratorios están buscando otras rutas hacia Estados Unidos, dijo José Alberto Canedo, director de Protección al Migrante, dependiente del Instituto Nacional de Migración (INM).

Actualmente hay tres grupos en Baja California, cinco en Sonora, dos en Chihuahua, uno en Coahuila y uno en Tamaulipas, todos en la frontera con Estados Unidos; además hay uno en Veracruz (Golfo de México), dos en Chiapas y uno en Tabasco, en el sur del país.

El plan del INM es crear siete más hacia 2012: dos más en Tamaulipas, uno más en Veracruz, tres más en Chiapas, y uno en el central estado de México (el primero no fronterizo) en la estación de trenes de Tultitlán.

Comentó que el huracán Stan (octubre 2005) destruyó en el estado mexicano de Chiapas, fronterizo con Guatemala, las vías del tren de carga que los inmigrantes centroamericanos utilizaban para internarse por México.

Eso, dijo Canedo Bernal, ha hecho que los inmigrantes se muevan más hacia el interior de Chiapas o entren a México por el estado de Tabasco en busca del tren que los llevaría a Veracruz (Golfo de México) y de ahí subirían hasta la costa este de Estados Unidos.

Pero la empresa estadounidense que controlaba el ferrocarril Chiapas-Mayab dejó de operar desde el pasado 25 de junio y eso produjo que los inmigrantes que llegaban a Tabasco quedaran varados.

En Arriaga (Chiapas), que está a unos 250 kilómetros de la frontera con Guatemala, el sacerdote Herman Vázquez, de la casa del migrante en esa ciudad, explicó a Efe que diariamente reciben a decenas de inmigrantes.

Muchos, dijo el sacerdote, "llegan enfermos luego de caminar desde Tapachula en la frontera con Guatemala hasta aquí, para abordar el tren", que los lleve al norte."No es que se haya incrementado la migración sino que se están aglomerando porque el tren dejó de pasar y tardan más en reanudar su viaje, llegan de la frontera enfermos de fiebre, problemas gastrointestinales y sobre todo con los pies llagados", dijo Vázquez.

Otros factores del cambio de rutas en el flujo migratorio son la mayor vigilancia de la Patrulla Fronteriza estadounidense, el levantamiento de muros en la zona limítrofe con México, el recrudecimiento del calor en el desierto de Arizona y la inseguridad, dijo el funcionario responsable de los Grupos Beta. "Hay un registro del movimiento migratorio en donde los inmigrantes no se movían antes", reiteró Canedo al señalar que eso eleva los riesgos para los inmigrantes.

Este cambio de rutas se refleja en la disminución de contactos de los Grupos Beta con los inmigrantes: en 2004 se tuvo comunicación con 661.044 personas que buscaban llegar a Estados Unidos, en 2005 con 769.056, en 2006 bajó a 630.112 y de enero a junio de este año solo con 23.681.

Los Grupos Beta informan a los inmigrantes de los riesgo que hay en las rutas y los orientan sobre qué tienen que hacer en casos de peligro o situaciones graves, pero no les ayudan a "descubrir los caminos"." Les dicen a los inmigrantes los riesgos que tienen por el clima y los animales en el desierto (norte) o en la selva (sur), les advierten sobre los delincuentes", explicó el funcionario, quien reconoce que "solo a un porcentaje muy bajo se les convence de no cruzar".

Los Grupos Beta no pueden detener a los inmigrantes extranjeros que usan territorio mexicano para llegar a Estados Unidos, pero sí alertan a las autoridades sobre la presencia de estos indocumentados." Los Grupos Beta hacen una labor heroica, afrontan situaciones críticas como cuando la gente cae del tren y sufre mutilaciones, y se mueven en terrenos donde son difíciles las condiciones," agregó Canedo.El funcionario rechaza la versión de que los Grupos Beta son "el pollero (traficante de personas) bueno" porque su tarea es preventiva y no para decirles "por dónde es mejor cruzar a Estados Unidos."

Copyright © 2007 Agencia EFE, S.A.

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Mexico will increase Grupo Beta support to immigrants on their route to the U.S.

An official source told the EFE News agency that Mexico will increase from sixteen to 23 the number of Groupos Beta in order to provide humanitarian aid to undocumented immigrants in route to the United States, because the migratory flow is moving in other directions, and because of diverse factors, among them a climatologic one.

At the moment, the Groupos Beta, comprised of an average of ten people consisting of administrative employees, medical technicians and doctors, operate in eight states of the country, five on the border with the United States, two on border with Guatemala and one in the state of Veracruz (Gulf of Mexico).

The goal to increase the groups is fixed for 2012 and takes into account, in part, that the migratory flows are looking for other routes towards the United States, said Jose Alberto Canedo, director of Protección al Migrante, an employee of the Instituto Nacional de Migración (INM).

Presently there are three groups in Baja California, five in Sonora, two in Chihuahua, one in Coahuila and one in Tamaulipas, all on the border with The United States; in addition there is one in Veracruz (Gulf of Mexico) two in Chiapas, and one in Tabasco, the south of the country.

The INM plan is to create seven more by 2012: two more in Tamaulipas, one more in Veracruz, three more in Chiapas, and one in the central State of Mexico (the first nonborder one) in the Tultitlán train station.

He commented that hurricane Stan (October 2005) destroyed the freight train routes that Central American immigrants used to go into Mexico from the Mexican state of Chiapas, bordering Guatemala.

That, said Canedo-Bernal, has caused that the immigrants to move more towards the interior of Chiapas, or enter Mexico by the State of Tabasco looking for the train that would take them to Veracruz (Gulf of Mexico). And they would ride from there up the coast to the United States.

But the American company that controlled the Chiapas-Mayab railroad stopped operating on 25 of June, which beached the immigrants who arrived at Tabasco.

In Arriaga (Chiapas), about 250 kilometers from the border with Guatemala, the priest Herman Vázquez, of the migrant house in that city, explained to EFE that daily they receive "tens" of immigrants.

Many, said the priest, "arrive ill after walking up to here from Tapachula on the border with Guatemala, to approach the train," that takes them to the north. "it is not that the migration has been increased but that they are being crowded together because the train doesn't leave (often) and (when it does) takes more upon resuming its trip. They arrive from the border ill of fever, gastrointestinal problems and mainly with injured feet", Vázquez said.

Other route diversion factors of the migratory flow are the greater monitoring of the American Border Patrol, the rise of walls in the border zone with Mexico, the new outbreak of the heat in the desert of Arizona, and insecurity, said the civil employee responsible for the Groupos Beta.

"There is a record of the migratory movement where the immigrants did not move before," Canedo indicated, and reiterated that this elevates the risks for the immigrants.

This route diversion is reflected in the diminution of contacts of the Groupos Beta with the immigrants: in 2004, there was contact with 661,044 people, who were expected to arrive at the United States, in 2005 with 769,056, in 2006 it lowered to 630,112 and from January to June of this year, there was 23,681.

Groupos Beta inform the immigrants of the risk that there is in the routes, and they orient them on what they must do in cases of danger or serious situations, but they do not help "to find the way." "They tell the immigrants the risks presented to them by the climate and the animals in the desert (North) or the forest (South), they warn to them about the criminals," explained the civil employee, who recognizes that "he convinces only a very low percentage not to cross." Groupos Beta cannot stop the foreign immigrants who use Mexican territory to arrive at the United States, but alerts the authorities of the presence of these undocumented people.

"Groupos Beta do heroic work, confront critical situations like when people fall off the train and are mutilated, and they travel in regions where the conditions are difficult," Canedo added. The civil employee rejects the version which the Groupos Beta are "the good chicken farmer (human trafficer) "because its task is preventive and it does not stop to say to them "where it is better to cross to United States."