REFUGEE BID UNDERSCORES SEVERITY OF DRUG VIOLENCE IN MEXICO

VANCOUVER -- Leopoldo Quintana Murillo likes to tell stories. He puts
his whole body into it. His eyes light up and his hands wave about,
the emotions spilling out as he recounts events. He lives in
Vancouver, although authorities have issued an order to have him
removed from Canada. He came as a refugee claiming to be on the run
from the drug wars in Mexico that have taken more than 2,500 lives
this year. His refugee claim was rejected, requiring him to return to
his hometown of Ciudad Juarez, reportedly a transit point for 70 per
cent of the cocaine going into the United States from Mexico.

But Mr. Quintana, 45 - he does not use his last name Murillo - remains
in Canada. He said in an interview he intends to leave voluntarily,
which will allow him to return to this country at a later date. "I'm
ready to go. Today is too late," he said. But he quickly added he has
some things to do before he leaves.

Officials from Citizenship and Immigration Services and the Canadian
Border Services Agency declined to comment on Mr. Quintana's case,
citing privacy reasons. They could not say whether Mr. Quintana
remained in Canada legally.

The border services agency had detained him on Oct. 7 to ensure he
left the country. The Public Safety Ministry argued he was unlikely to
leave the country if he was not in custody. However, an Immigration
and Refugee Board official decided otherwise and released him.

On the morning after his release, Mr. Quintana drove his wife, a son,
a daughter and three grandchildren to the airport to catch a flight to
Mexico. But he did not go with them. He waved goodbye and then drove
away. A few weeks later, he took four more family members to the
airport and once again stayed behind. "They all left on their own," he
said, adding that Canadian government officials paid for their tickets.

Earlier this month, Mr. Quintana said in an interview he would leave
Canada as soon as arrangements were made for his 2001 GMC truck to be
taken to Mexico. He was anxious to join his family, he said.

But once the truck was gone, his plans changed. He then said he would
leave as soon as he has enough money to buy a ticket. "I'm broke. I
have $70 in my pocket," he said in a brief cellphone conversation. But
he is ready to work. "I can do drywalling, painting, cleaning up," he
said, adding that he does not want to accept a handout from the
government for his ticket.

Mr. Quintana's story was recounted, with the assistance of a
translator, in a series of interviews with The Globe and Mail over the
past month. His case draws attention to the plight of those who say
they come here to escape the unrelenting drug violence in Mexico, last
year's largest country-of-origin of refugee claimants to Canada.

Mr. Quintana's hometown of Ciudad Juarez is a city of two million
people across the border from El Paso, Tex. He described himself as "a
wetback" who would frequently sneak into the United States for
seasonal work, beginning when he was a young teenager. He was around
30 years old when he settled down with his wife and children in
Memphis, Tenn., working regularly at construction sites. He was always
in the country illegally, he said.

Mr. Quintana said he was pushed into the drug world in 2003, about 10
years after moving to the United States. A friend of his brother, who
still lived in Mexico, asked him to help out in a drug deal. The
friend said Mr. Quintana's family in Mexico would be hurt if he did
not co-operate, Mr. Quintana said.

Canadian authorities who considered his refugee claim concluded that
Mr. Quintana voluntarily participated in the import, sale and purchase
of 15 to 20 boxes of approximately 50 kilograms of cocaine and 500
kilograms of marijuana while he was living illegally in Memphis. They
decided he was to be paid $50,000 for helping rent a truck to move the
drugs and for being "a lookout," watching for police while the drugs
were sold.

Mr. Quintana said at his refugee hearing that he saw "dirty" cops
steal the drugs. He told U.S. and Mexican authorities about the
alleged corruption. Neither U.S. officials nor the drug traffickers
believed him. The drug dealers believed he either stole the drugs or
was involved with a group that took them.

The next year, Mr. Quintana found out his nephew had been offered
$50,000 to kill him, he told Canadian officials. Both the drug
traffickers and the corrupt policemen were after him, he said.

He moved with his family to Albuquerque. Three years after the
incident, he walked across the Canada-U.S. border at an area without
surveillance. Days later, he made a claim for refugee protection. He
said he decided to flee to Canada after learning that corrupt Memphis
police officers, involved in the same drug deal that he was - but
arrested in an unrelated drug matter - were being released from jail.
He said in an interview he was never involved in drug dealing before
or after this single incident.

A search of Memphis police records did not corroborate Mr. Quintana's
account. His claim for refugee protection was turned down on Feb. 5.
An appeal to overturn the decision was rejected Aug. 26.

Mr. Quintana said in an interview he remains in Canada under a process
he claimed was legal but that he did not fully understand. He does not
really care.

He still plans to leave Canada. Soon.