Salvadorans Los Angeles

For nearly two decades, Salvadorans in Southern California have sent dollars and goods home to relatives by wire, mail and courier, shoring up the economy of the war-torn country they fled and feeding a consumer boom there. Now, six years after peace accords ended the civil war, Salvadoran officials are eyeing the $1.2 billion in yearly remittances with discomfort. The money has distorted the country's economy.

Indicating the esteem El Salvador holds for the business prowess of its emigrants, diplomats and economic planners from the Central American country came a-courting their plucky expatriates Thursday, seeking help in carrying out the tiny nation's ambitious development plans.

Salvadoran and Guatemalan immigrants in Los Angeles believe inadequate schools are their children's most pressing problem and fault the quality and effectiveness of instruction in English, which they view as critical for assimilation to American life, according to authors of a study released Wednesday by two leading Latino institutes.

Despite news accounts about an extended deadline, the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service has reiterated that tens of thousands of Salvadorans filing for political asylum under the favorable terms of a federal court settlement have only one week left to submit their applications.

Dinora Marroquin had worked for it. She endured 1 1/2-hour bus rides from her Koreatown home to Birmingham High School in Van Nuys. She tackled advanced placement classes in English, though English is not her native language. And in February, she was one letter away from her dream: A scholarship to the prestigious Scripps College. But the letter never came. There was a mix-up on the address attached to her financial aid form, it turned out.

Dinora Marroquin had worked for it. The El Salvador native endured 1 1/2-hour bus rides from her Koreatown home to Birmingham High school in Van Nuys. She tackled advanced placement classes in English, though she spoke no English before she was 7 years old. And in February, she was one letter away from her dream: A scholarship to the prestigious Scripps College for women. But the letter never came. There was a mix-up on the address attached to her financial aid form, it turned out.

Community groups Thursday urged tens of thousands of El Salvadoran immigrants residing in the Los Angeles area to file prompt applications for political asylum if they fear persecution back in their homeland. Many may otherwise face deportation after years in the United States. "We are very concerned, because if they leave this until the last minute they'll lose the opportunity," said Carlos H. Vaquerano of the Central American Resource Center.

FRANCISCO AYALA BUFFED THE freshly waxed surface of the ambulance one last time, then stood back to admire the gleaming red results. The letters on the side stood out clearly: "\o7 Unidad de Salud de Estanzuelas, Departamento de Usulutan\f7 ," the name of the health clinic in a small town nestled in the mountains of eastern El Salvador.

Friends and neighbors gathered outside Francisco Ayala's East Hollywood apartment building, eager to catch a last glimpse of a bright red ambulance before it left Saturday on its mission of mercy to a small, impoverished town in El Salvador. Ayala and a group of former neighbors from the town of Estanzuelas raised $6,000 to buy the ambulance, which Ayala kept in his apartment garage.

When Adalia Zelada's parents left El Salvador in the 1970s, they never imagined that their daughter would go there one day as anything but a tourist. But last week, the UCLA freshman joined 12 other college students who are studying social and economic issues in El Salvador. The summer program is sponsored by the Central American Resource Center in Pico-Union. Like Zelada, most of the students are Los Angeles residents of Salvadoran descent.