HERE'S THE DOPE

Mexico's Military Runs A Drug Museum, Which Has Its High And Low Points

MEXICO CITY - In a city with some of the world's finest museums, the
hottest one is the toughest to get into.

It's Mexico's first official "narco-museum." It displays heroin and
marijuana processing machinery, confiscated weaponry of infamous drug
traffickers, and examples of oddball methods of smuggling drugs into the
United States - such as buttock implants.

The idea behind the museum, which is run by the Mexican military, is to
give recruits a taste of what they will be up against and what to look for
when they hit the streets in search of illicit drugs.

Mexico's military plays an aggressive role in drug enforcement in support
of federal police and anti-narcotic prosecutors. At least 25,000 soldiers
are on regular drug patrol concentrated along Mexico's two coasts.

Yet despite the military's best efforts, Mexico is considered a haven for
traffickers who move cocaine to the United States from South America, grow
and export marijuana and heroin, and control most of the methamphetamine
traffic in the United States.

Each spring Mexico complains to American politicians about their
controversial drug-certification process, which requires the U.S. president
to evaluate the efforts against drugs by developing nations. And each year,
despite its complaints, Mexico shows off how many drug shipments it stopped
and steps up arrests of traffickers - all to avoid trade sanctions
triggered by decertification.

In this atmosphere, the narco-museum has caught on. After a Mexico City
television crew was allowed a sneak peak, military officials began turning
down daily requests for tours from the public.

In recent days, officials have begun considering tour requests from
journalists.

But the museum's doors are not open to the public. The museum, officially
called the Museum of Mind-altering Substances, is in Mexican military
headquarters in Mexico City. And unlike at the Pentagon, there are no
public tours of the Mexican Defense Secretariat.

The U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration also operates a museum, which is
open to the public by appointment at the agency's headquarters in
Arlington, Va. But at the Mexican museum, only some military and federal
police recruits and Mexican law students are permitted guided tours.

Defense officials have also invited foreign diplomats and visiting dignitaries.

"It is valuable for us to see exactly what Mexico is up against," said
Leslie Kekana, South Africa's vice ambassador to Mexico before inspecting
the automatic rifle taken from imprisoned drug lord Hector Luis "El Guero"
Palma, inscribed with a swaying palm tree near the trigger.

"It gives you an appreciation of how tough this fight is."

The tour began at a plaque bearing the names of 380 Mexican soldiers -
drivers and generals alike - who have died enforcing drug laws.

Once inside, an army captain quickly made it clear that almost everything
inside was real, captured in raids on drug plantations, labs and the homes
of smugglers. That's evident by the smell of chemical and drug residue at
the bottom of glass bowls and tubing used for illicit drug processing.

Grisly photos of the buttock implants are also real, as are the
consequences: The woman smuggler died of an overdose after one of the
implants burst.

The captain also showed off other ways smugglers have tried to move their
goods: in hollowed-out lumber, inside stone fountains, in paint drums with
hidden compartments, in fake arm casts, and in a prosthetic device fitted
on a woman to make her look pregnant.

The real highlight for visitors appeared to be a collection of weaponry
confiscated from traffickers - from simple revolvers to rocket launchers.
The showpieces: slain drug lord Amado Carrillo Fuentes' pistol, with
gold-plated "ACF" initials, and fugitive narco Joaquin "El Chapo" Guzman's
gold-handled gun.

But some displays also drift toward the absurd, such as a gaudy, solid-wood
door into which an artisan carved the figure of a trafficker toting an
automatic weapon and guarding a marijuana plantation.

Then there's the scale-model of a captured James Bond-style narco truck -
equipped with tear gas dispensers and oil-slick bombs - and mannequins
dressed up in cowboy hats, open shirts, and loud jewelry.

"That's the attire narcos prefer and should be viewed with suspicion," said
the military docent.

Also simulated, for obvious reasons, is marijuana depicted in a homespun
dehydrator. Pine needles and branches are the stand-ins.

The pale-faced mannequins clad in the cartoonish narco-garb drew chuckles.
But the mood turned somber when the tour guide pointed at a child-sized
mannequin whose overalls were covered with drug-laced stickers.

The captain grew emotional when he described how one child was induced to
smuggle drugs in the tires of his small bicycle, and how young Mexican
girls are sent into opium fields to make delicate incisions on poppy buds
that draw out valuable resin. There are displays of the cut poppies and
detailed descriptions of how the resin becomes heroin.

"How bad are these people who would use children this way?" the guide asked
rhetorically. Children "are forced to smuggle for these terrible people, or
they're being lured into taking drugs. ... That's why we're doing all this,
to protect our children, our country's future."