TEENS EMBRACE ECSTASY'S EUPHORIA

This is the second installment of a three-part series. In part one, The
Reporter introduced readers to "Angela" and "Michael," two Vacaville
teenagers preparing to attend a rave. The teens spoke freely on the
condition that their real names and images not be used. Both reporter and
photographer identified themselves as such to organizers and partygoers, and
were universally given permission to share the rave experience - Editor.

As the wooden doors swing open onto Saturday's all-night dance party in
downtown Oakland, Angela waits frantically in the long hallway for "little
brother."

Partygoers brush past her as she scans the crowd. Finally, Michael makes it
into the converted warehouse, and the Vacaville pair's four-hour roundabout
road trip to get to the underground rave is forgotten.

Michael's short-cropped dyed-blond hair is in sharp contrast to his bronze
skin. He's clad in a blue hooded sweatshirt, parachute pants pulled up to
the knees and tennis shoes.

Angela's dark hair is parted into braids and her eyes are decorated with
white liner that glows under the black lights.

The teens are ready to party, each in their own way.

Captivated by the music and the vibe, Angela decided a while back that
Ecstasy need not be part of her rave experiences.

But for Michael, the drug's appeal has not waned.

More than 400 teenagers, many under 18, crowd into a space akin to the
common area of a run-down apartment building. The floor is concrete. Kids
lounge on the rickety wooden staircases leading to private apartments.

Body heat and cigarette smoke choke the air.

The acrid stench of half-empty beer cans is conspicuously absent from this
teenage party setting, replaced instead by occasional whiffs of menthol as
ravers wearing dust masks filled with Vick's VapoRub pass by.

Luminescent neon Glowsticks cut through the darkness, guided by ravers in
spiraling loops and curls.

DJs spin chest-pounding sounds that spiral through the room, capturing
ravers with a seductive mix of slow and fast beats. The music demands
high-energy followers.

Dancers bounce from the balls of their feet, propelled up and up in time
with the digitized pulse.

In one corner, a water vendor is doing a brisk business. He's selling
20-ounce bottles for $2 apiece.

Water - which can help ward off potential dehydration from Ecstasy use,
dancing or a combination of the two - is the drink of choice for ravers.

Alcohol is rare at these parties.

Familiar faces and new friends exchange bracelets and necklaces crafted from
brightly colored beads they call candy.

Instead of patrolling for fights, guys shake hands and embrace.

Ravers say these rituals celebrate a commitment to their motto: PLUR -
Peace, Love, Unity and Respect.

For teenagers, the attraction to such a world is undeniable, says Marcia
Rosenbaum, a medical sociologist and co-author of "In Pursuit of Ecstasy" -
a book on the designer drug's history.

Even partygoers who don't take drugs at raves say they feel enveloped by a
non-judgmental setting where everyone is welcome.

Ecstasy acts on certain brain chemicals to heighten sensations of well-being
and self-confidence, possibly contributing to the feel-good vibe at raves,
said Rosenbaum, 52.

Frequent ravers estimate up to two-thirds of fellow attendees are on Ecstasy
during the parties.

Until 1985, when it was re-classified by the federal government as an
illegal narcotic, Ecstasy was used by psychotherapists for small-group
therapy sessions.

In her 1994 study, Rosenbaum found that, "Regardless of whether people used
(Ecstasy) for therapy or recreation, they found they could talk openly and
their fears melted away."

Most people hesitate to closely examine themselves for fear of dredging up
painful emotions or dark thoughts, she said.

"It's one thing to talk about an adult, but imagine teenagers. They're full
of self-doubt and they take this drug and they're at peace with themselves -
maybe for the first time."

Ecstasy's powerful attraction renders scare tactics useless, said Rosenbaum,
the San Francisco director of the Lindesmith Center, a research foundation
that advocates drug policy reform.

As the mother of a teenage son, Rosenbaum says she's uncomfortable with
underage drug use, but believes more information should be available about
how to reduce the risks associated with Ecstasy.

"In adolescence you have the willingness to take risks and push things to
the edge," she says. "They don't have the sense that bad things can happen.
We're not talking about kids who are disadvantaged or otherwise deprived.
They're out there to dance."

Per underground party rules, the ravers kept their candy, stuffed animals
and occasional bunny ears concealed until entering the event. Now it's all
out in the open.

Just after midnight, some uninvited guests arrive at the door.

Organizers of the event, communicating on wireless headsets, command the DJs
to stop the music and tell the ravers to "shut up."

"You guys need to shut up because the cops are going to come through,"
shouts a concerned raver who spies uniformed officers at the end of a long
hallway. "The cops will bust the party."

The threat of the evening's demise silences hordes of teenagers within
seconds in a turn of events that would make any high school teacher envious.

"If you're under 18 or you have any s--- (drugs) on you, get in the back
room," urges one of the party's hosts, prompting a virtual stampede from the
front room to the building's innards.

Meanwhile, near the entrance, a teenage boy's head disappears into a
trashcan while he heaves uncontrollably.

"Since this party's been kinda whacked we're gonna throw you guys aparty
that's gonna rock the (expletive) house," promises one of the promoters.

Minutes later, what turned out to be private security guards patrolling the
neighborhood leave without stepping through the doors.

The DJ slowly turns the volume knob clockwise and the festivities resume.

A white parachute hovers from the ceiling, billowing over the dance floor
and creating a cocoon in which ravers can groove.

Angela positions herself just steps away from the DJ to begin an hours-long
dance vigil.

Michael, on the other hand, pops an Ecstasy pill he purchased from a friend.
The pill is a "white Buddha" - which looks like Tylenol with the shape of a
Buddha pressed into it.

He'll have to wait 20 minutes or so for the first waves of exhilaration and
possibly nausea to kick in.

"Sometimes I start feeling really warm," he says, caressing his arms.

Tomorrow, Michael says he'll suffer the post-Ecstasy funk ravers refer to as
being E-tarded, but right now it's only 1 a.m. There are hours of partying
ahead. And he's determined to stay up all night dancing.

He's not alone.

The signs of other party-goers on drugs are unmistakable.

Kids "rolling" on Ecstasy or high on other drugs line the entryway in the
front room.

Crouched against the wall, sucking furiously on pacifiers or draped over one
another on couches, their faces reveal a range of consciousness levels.

Some are transfixed by light shows performed with Glowsticks before their
eyes.

The guy who was throwing up earlier now sits on a wooden storage case
looking slightly dazed. His girlfriend's head is propped on his shoulder.

He guesses he got some bad E. The pill he took was green and shaped like a
triangle.

Other ravers tell him that shape and color has a reputation for being passed
off as Ecstasy when it really contains another, more toxic, substance.

"This is a big E party," comments Adi, 26, an Ecstasy dealer from Sacramento
who makes the rounds of Bay Area parties every weekend. He estimates at
least 60 percent of tonight's guests are on some type of drug.

They're mostly "candy kids" - ravers under 18 in search of underground
parties where they can drop Ecstasy, he explains. They carry fuzzy stuffed
animals, suck on pacifiers and wear their hair in braids.

Adi's girlfriend - known by her party name, X-citeable - has been
accompanying him to raves since February.

"We're all like a family," says X-citeable, pointing out at least six
partygoers she's seen at other raves.

An hour later, Michael has hit the peak of his euphoric Ecstasy trip.

The dance floor can't hold his attention.

His face childlike, his expression eager to please and his hands busy, he
wanders the rooms to greet strangers and friends. As he approaches, he
grasps their arms, searching to gratify the intense sense of touch the
Ecstasy has awakened in him.

He removes a bottle of lotion from his backpack and offers some of the cool,
slimy substance to partygoers reclining on a couch.

Intertwined hands revel in the sensation of lotion gliding between their
fingers.

This is Michael's third time on Ecstasy.

It's easy to come by in Vacaville, he says. "I can page someone and get it
within like 15 minutes."

His older brothers introduced him to alcohol and he's smoked marijuana, but
he says nothing attracts him more than the euphoria of Ecstasy.

But his experiences with E have not always been pleasant.

At his last rave, Michael took two pills - something he says he'll never do
again.

"It makes you feel really good and I thought if I take another one I'll feel
even better," he said. "That was a really dumb move. I was like in a trance.
It scared the hell out of me."

Michael says his mother knows he goes to raves. She hears techno music
blaring from his room.

"I play it and my mom's, like, 'turn that off,' " he said.

She also knows he's tried Ecstasy.

"She doesn't want me to do it but she knows if she tells me not to I'll do
it anyway," he says.

He's pretty sure she has no more than a fuzzy image of the drug itself.

"She just thinks it's, like, this new drug," he said. "She doesn't know how
bad it is."

* Tomorrow: A tale of two raves.