Tourists play illegal aliens

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IXMIQUILPAN, Mexico -- On a misty, moonless night, the group scurried down the canyon wall, their feet slipping in the ankle-high mud.

The sirens grew louder as their guide, clad in a ski mask and known only as "Poncho," urged them to run faster. "Hurry up. The Border Patrol is coming."

A couple in matching designer tennis outfits loped awkwardly along, the boyfriend clutching a digital video camera and struggling to keep the pop-out screen steady.

The 20 or so people fleeing the Border Patrol aren't illegal aliens -- they're tourists about 700 miles from the border. Most are well-heeled professionals more likely to travel to the United States in an airplane than on foot.

They've each paid 150 pesos -- about $15 -- for what is perhaps Mexico's strangest tourist attraction: A night as an illegal alien crossing the Rio Grande.

Advertising for the mock journey, which takes place at a nature park in the central state of Hidalgo, tells the pretend migrants to "Make fun of the Border Patrol," and to "Cross the Border as an Extreme Sport."

The organizers say they are trying to build empathy for migrants by putting people in their shoes.

And the organizers, members of a H'ah'u (pronounced nyah-nyoo) Indian community, speak from experience. Leaders estimate as many as 90 percent of the 2,500-person community have made the journey to the United States, most ending up in the boomtown of Las Vegas.

"We do this to show the people what it's like, to make them more conscious," said H'ah'u elder Luis Santiago Hernandez, who has crossed more than five times. Mr. Hernandez said that while they try to make the experience authentic, "It's not even 10 percent of the real thing."

The Mexican government helped finance the creation of the Eco Alberto nature park, which is communally owned.

Participants said they were lured by the realistic experience promised by the nearly six-hour nocturnal walk. "It was like being in their flesh and bones," marveled Oswaldo Martinez, a 31-year-old computer-security technician from Cuernavaca.

"It was cool. It was very fun," gushed his friend, Mauricio Palacios, 30. "I never imagined it would be like that."

Until almost 2 a.m., the group scaled walls, hid in tunnels, jumped on the back of pickup trucks and followed a path through a cornfield. The trip ended with a blindfolded ride to a H'ah'u holy place, where Poncho, whose real name is Alfonso Martinez Flores, asked the group to be more honest and sincere in their lives.

The trip starts with a rousing rendition of the Mexican national anthem and a meandering speech by Poncho, who bears an uncanny resemblance to Mexican Zapatista rebel leader Subcomandante Marcos in his black ski mask.

Poncho tells his charges that they will not only be retracing the steps of migrants, but embarking on a personal spiritual journey.

The mock agents try to lure the people out with food and water and warn them of the dangers of the desert. "We're here to help you," they call out in accented English.