IT'S ALMOST LIKE VISITING AMSTERDAM

OAKLAND -- IN THE HEART of Uptown, the battered northern edge of downtown
that City Hall has long sought to revitalize, a new commercial district has
sprouted: Oaksterdam. Nurtured by the city's benign neglect, half a dozen
cannabis dispensaries and related suppliers have set up shop in a green
triangle bounded by 17th and 19th streets and Telegraph Avenue and
Broadway. Several operate cafes in the front and direct medical marijuana
patients to back rooms or basements to get their supplies. Others look more
like nightclubs with guards posted outside to check identification.

Unlike Amsterdam, however, where marijuana is legal but regulated, cannabis
clubs here are operating in a netherworld between federal, state and local
laws. Their activities may be lawful under California's Proposition 215,
but the feds have argued they are illegal.

And the city over the past few years has taken a laissez-faire stance,
providing no oversight and telling the police to steer clear.

Until things are sorted out, the clubs have no strong legal protection, and
since they are vulnerable to the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency, have been
staying on the down-low. Staffers of clubs in the uptown area declined to
be interviewed for this story.

The clubs have kept such a low profile that Mayor Jerry Brown, who has been
focusing on uptown for a large redevelopment project and also wants to move
his charter school for the arts to the Fox Theater on Telegraph and 18th
Street, doesn't know much about them, said press secretary T.T. Nhu. She
said the mayor was seeking more information from the city manager's office.

But with the neighborhood's nickname and the recent opening of several more
outlets, including a large one within the past month, the area is gaining a
reputation and a higher profile.

Attendees at the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws
[NORML] April conference in San Francisco took a field trip to Oaksterdam
to see what was billed as a model of peaceful, lawful medical marijuana
distribution for the rest of the country.

Dispensaries that are casting themselves as health care providers with
names like Compassionate Caregivers and California Advocate Relief Exchange
are operating alongside those whose names are associated with recreational use.

The Bulldog Coffeeshop on Broadway has the same name and logo as the famous
Amsterdam hash bars, the SR71 Coffeeshop on nearby 17th Street uses the
name of a military reconnaissance plane also used to spy on marijuana
crops, and the new 420 Cafe makes a reference to the code name for pot
among users.

There are so many purveyors that the Fat Cat Cafe on Broadway posted a sign
on its window reading "This is not a dispensary." Too many people were
heading to the deli's upstairs seating area thinking they could get their
prescriptions filled, said one worker.

The clubs have generally been responsible tenants, and Joel Tena, aide to
Vice Mayor Nancy Nadel [Downtown-West Oakland], said the councilmember's
office has gotten few complaints.

"Past problems have been solved through meetings facilitated by this
office," Tena said. The new Lighthouse Community Charter School, which
serves kindergarteners, first-, sixth- and seventh-graders, opened last
August next door to the California Advocate Relief Agency Club in the
Floral Depot building at 19th and Telegraph. Jenna Stauffer, co-director
of the school, said the neighbors are subtle and responsible.

But she said the proliferation of clubs is a concern. "We walk around a
lot, and it's interesting at best," Stauffer said. "There are smells
wafting out of the building and the children ask about it."

Tena said Nadel -- who was on vacation and could not be reached -- is
supportive of the clubs but believes the high concentration of dispensaries
in the neighborhood is becoming a problem.

The Sexual Minority Alliance of Alameda County [SMAAC] is one of those that
have complained -- loudly and repeatedly. SMAAC's drop-in center for
lesbian, gay, bisexual and "questioning" youth is sandwiched in between the
Lemondrop Cafe and Compassionate Caregivers, two cannabis clubs.

The group, which is celebrating its fifth anniversary this weekend, wants
the city to regulate the clubs, much as they do liquor stores.

"Our goal is to give young people options, not introduce them to smelling
weed," said Roosevelt Mosby, SMAAC executive director. "The smell is so
strong in our basement that they don't have to buy it -- they can go down
there and breathe deeply."

Mosby readily admits that many of the young people served by his program
have drug and alcohol problems, and it's a difficult environment to operate in.

When the program moved there in 1998, only the Oakland Cannabis Buyers
Cooperative was on Broadway. The coop was the first and only program to be
deputized by the City Council to distribute medical marijuana.

Its founder, Jeff Jones, pioneered the voluntary standards that many
cannabis clubs have adopted in regulatory vacuum left by Proposition 215 --
which legalized medicinal marijuana for serious illnesses but was very
vague on the details.

The Oakland City Council tried to give the coop some protection, but that
didn't stop the Drug Enforcement Agency from shutting it down and filing a
lawsuit to keep it and five other Northern California clubs closed.

The suit went all the way to the Supreme Court, which ruled that the clubs
could not use a medical necessity defense but left open some legal avenues
for the clubs to pursue. Those issues are now on appeal before the 9th U.S.
Court of Appeals.

The coop has not acted as a dispensary since 1998. Instead, it continues to
issue identification cards to patients, screening them and their doctors
and requiring annual renewals. It also sells hemp products and literature
and helps patients acquire vaporizers to ingest the drug.

Jones said he could not comment on the issues surrounding the new pot clubs
in the neighborhood, though he has always been in favor of stringent
regulations for cannabis distributors. Some of the nearby clubs accept the
coop's cards, others don't, he said.

"I'm supportive of any agency that is trying to help people get medicine,"
he said. "If there were no federal vacuum, I'd be all in favor of the city
regulating cannabis clubs."

But with the lawsuit still pending, the city has apparently been turning a
blind eye. No one in the city manager's office has worked with the clubs
since Mike Nisperos, who developed the agreement with the coop, left two
years ago, according to complaint investigator Larry Carroll.

"There is no permitting or criteria they would have to go through now,"
Carroll said. The Planning and Zoning Department would treat them as a
medical services operation, like a drugstore or pharmacy -- provided they
give an accurate description of their operations, said Planning Manager
Gary Patton.

But Deputy City Attorney John Truxaw said he is "unaware of any group that
has gone to the city and sought a land-use permit as a medical marijuana
club. If it's not a commercial endeavor, and they are operating under the
city council ordinance, then they would not have to."

Some of the clubs have current businesses licenses as retailers or
professional services providers; others have no records with the city. It's
unclear whether they operate as not-for-profits, as the coop did, or
whether they are paying business taxes based on their marijuana sales.

And the police, acting in accordance with the council's policy and swamped
with higher priority needs, continue to give the clubs wide berth.

"I keep extensive documentation about every nightclub in town, but I
couldn't tell you anything about these," said Lt. Ed Poulson, area
commander for downtown. "We'd give people a ticket for double parking in
front while they go in, but that's it. Because of our interpretation of the
council rule, if you are a cannabis club, we don't do any enforcement."