Acapulco

"We are like Cyrano. We know we cannot win, but we fight. We are a loser, but a faithful loser." --Daniel Toscan du Plantier, president, Unifrance Film International * It's hot here, jungle hot. The sultry air seems almost perfumed from the flourishing hibiscus and bougainvillea.

Men armed with rifles kidnapped the father of Mexican soccer star Jorge Campos on Wednesday at a sports field in Acapulco named for his son. Two relatives confirmed the kidnapping on condition of anonymity, saying they feared for the life of Alvaro Campos. "There were six or eight people with their faces uncovered . . . but nobody recognized them," said one relative. "They took out their guns and took him aboard a pickup truck to an unknown place."

Gunmen posing as federal police kidnapped the American manager of the Princess, one of Acapulco's leading hotels, state and police officials said Wednesday. A police officer was killed and another was wounded in a shootout that ensued. Ten heavily armed men dressed in the black uniforms of the federal police intercepted Vincent Carrozza's car Tuesday near the hotel, said Hector Omar Maganda of the district attorney's office in Guerrero state. Lt. Col.

Acapulco seems to have quickly cleaned up its tourist area after Hurricane Pauline's torrential rains left at least 120 people dead in the city earlier this month. Hotels in Mexico's most famous resort were barely damaged. A few closed for several days to clean up dirty swimming pools and debris-strewn gardens. But all major hotels now are operating normally, and have ended water rationing, residents and officials said.

Mexican President Ernesto Zedillo on Tuesday tried to quell rising anger amid a water shortage, fears of epidemics and mounting charges of corruption in the aftermath of Hurricane Pauline. Most residents had no drinking water, and many were mobbing water trucks that ventured into areas hardest hit by last week's storm, which killed more than 200 people. Four cases of cholera have been reported.

About 1,000 mourners, many wiping away tears, sang hymns Sunday beside a river that had raged over its banks, destroying their church during Hurricane Pauline's rampage over this coast. On the far side of what had been a road--but is now a gully 100 feet wide and 20 feet deep--bulldozers pushed aside boulders and scraped away mud, noisily competing with the prayers rising from the outdoor Mass.

Some soldiers dug bodies from under cars while others served steaming meals to hurricane survivors Friday as hundreds of thousands of Mexicans struggled to recover from the country's worst natural disaster in nearly a decade. The cleanup effort was complicated by a fresh curtain of driving rain and by washed-out bridges and mounds of dirt blocking roads leading to disaster sites.

In the worst natural disaster to strike Mexico since a 1988 storm, Hurricane Pauline swept through this tourist mecca early Thursday, leaving at least 124 dead in the region--with some estimates twice as high--thousands homeless and untold millions of dollars in damage. Most of the dead were counted in and around Acapulco, a port city usually filled with carefree Mexican and foreign tourists.

Rogelio de la O Almazan started his political career as do most of Mexico's local elite--as a low-level aide to one of the nation's most powerful families. As he toiled his way up the ranks in political jobs in Acapulco, De la O gained the trust of the Figueroas, a family dynasty that has governed this Pacific resort and the state of Guerrero for much of this century through Mexico's ruling Institutional Revolutionary Party, or PRI.