Pubdate: Fri, 22 Dec 2000 Source: Miami Herald (FL) Copyright: 2000 The Miami Herald Contact: One Herald Plaza, Miami FL 33132-1693 Fax: (305) 376-8950 Website: http://www.herald.com/ Forum: http://krwebx.infi.net/webxmulti/cgi-bin/WebX?mherald Author: Matthew J. Rosenberg, Associated Press DEA ACTION IN TV SPOTLIGHT A DIM SUCCESS KINGSTON, Jamaica -- It's a made-for-television moment in the war on drugs. Braving oppressive humidity and a somewhat wooden cast, cameraman Scott Sandman stamps about Kingston's international airport recreating the arrival of American drug fighters who link up with local police and head off to burn a marijuana field. "We're going to have you guys walking over from the hangar," he instructs the four Drug Enforcement Administration agents stationed in Jamaica. "Walk out briskly, act natural, don't look at the camera, look serious." Then he turns to two agents who have just flown in who, like the others, wear tiny microphones. "When we get to the plane, you two are going to open the door and come out and shake hands and whatever . . . and then you'll all talk about what we're going to do today." What they're doing is Operation Libertador -- the DEA's latest battle in the war against narcotics trafficking. The U.S. government, shedding usual secrecy, decided to show this one off. A crew from the syndicated reality-based TV show Arrest and Trial and a few reporters have been invited to tag along for three days. The first stop, in Trinidad, went poorly for the TV folks. A series of news conference-style encounters with a Trinidadian general, a DEA agent and the U.S. ambassador yielded effusive praise for the DEA-led cooperation efforts -- but not "the kind of visuals we can use," Sandman laments. ON TO KINGSTON Jamaica holds more promise. The first stop is the headquarters of the police narcotics unit for a meeting with U.S. Embassy staff and Jamaica's chief narcotics officer. Housed in a dilapidated cement building amid western Kingston's slums and shantytowns, the parking lot teems with people, livestock and vendors selling everything from cigarettes and gum to a diversity of drugs. Just a few feet away, a lanky young Rastafarian brushes long dreadlocks from his face and offers a reporter "a little ganja," or marijuana. "Me just run over there to get it," he says, pointing to a row of cinderblock and aluminum shanties across the street from the narcotics police. `HIGH-GRADE' "Good high-grade ganja," he promises with a smile. After a gut-churning, three-hour dash from Kingston down narrow country roads, a convoy of four-wheel-drive vehicles comes to a stop behind a beat-up truck. In its open bed about two dozen ragged workers fiddle with machetes. They seem little pleased when Sandman and two reporters hop in to join them for the 10-minute ride to the marijuana field. "Don't put my face in the camera," shouts Kevin Lawnmower as everyone crouches to avoid low-hanging tree branches. "They see me on TV, and they send gunman to check me, and that's it." At the marijuana field, there is giddiness in the air as weed-whacking machines whine, machetes slash and flames crackle from piles of marijuana. American agents in polyester jackets emblazoned with "DEA" joke with local cops in plain clothes. The U.S. Embassy's new narcotics affairs officer walks about the muddy field in a khaki suit and shiny cordovan loafers. Two police officers in blue jumpsuits stand watch, bearing no badges or insignia as they tote their M-16s. The two-acre field is vanishing quickly and Sandman struggles to catch it all on tape. "This is great stuff," he says, grinning. There are things the viewing audience probably won't notice. "This ganja already been harvested," says Lawnmower slyly, displaying the remains of a five-foot plant whose destruction may have come a little too late. "See -- no buds." - --- MAP posted-by: Terry F