BY JANE BUSSEY

From the taco stalls to the surrounding corn fields, Opopeo displays scant signs of Americana: an aging Ford Aerostar van, blue jeans and baseball caps here and there.

But American dollars helped build Opopeo and keep it afloat.

In this ''remittance town'' of 17,000 about a six-hour drive west of Mexico City, almost everyone seems to either work in the United States or have a family member who does, all of whom send home $300 to $400 a month from jobs like fishing, harvesting lettuce, tending lawns or construction.

''Sometimes the town is left empty,'' said Marcos Morales, 46, who has worked at farms in California on a work visa.

Residents often brave harsh border crossings to make the trip north, but the U.S. dollars are vital to Opopeo. Mayor Filiberto Pío estimates that remittances constitute 40 percent of the town's economy. That is far higher than the percentage for its state of Michoacán, whose estimated 13 percent of economic output from remittances is itself the highest in Mexico.

In many ways, Opopeo is still a traditional Mexican town. A woman in a serape sits on the sidewalk in the plaza selling fresh fish as a farmer on horseback passes by. But La Providencia Dollar Exchange Center occupies a prominent place near the mayor's offices. And up the street is a cellphone store selling the newest in wireless devices.

For those who stay home, the main sources of income are crafting tables and chairs from pine trees felled in the surrounding mountains and farming beans and corn.

The lack of local opportunities and the lure of better-paying jobs in the United States, as well as networks of friends and relatives from Opopeo who provide a cushion for recent U.S. arrivals, have combined to form the town's culture of outsourcing workers to the United States.

This migration ritual started decades ago. After local farmers planted corn in the spring, townsmen would head north to pick fruits and vegetables with migrant crews. In the fall, they returned to Opopeo to harvest their corn and spend holidays with their families.

The 1995 Mexican peso crisis fueled the migration, as did North American Free Trade Agreement tariff reductions on corn -- cheaper U.S. corn wrecked Mexico's corn industry, forcing farmers to find work elsewhere.

This dependency has its drawbacks. Pío said having many Opopeo residents in the United States means the town is short-changed at census time and does not receive its fair share of state funding.

And once towns like Opopeo become dependent on the outside income, there is almost no way of breaking that cycle. The outsourcing of local income also reduces pressure on Mexican authorities to create jobs by stimulating local economies.

''Wages are low,'' conceded Pío, who spent 18 years living in Arizona and toiling in western U.S. fields in addition to working crab boats in Alaska. ``But it is not all about wages. Instead, it is a question of where are we going to find work?''

Pío, 50, has three daughters who work for the federal government. They are a rarity in this part of Mexico.

Some Opopeo residents have used their savings to start businesses. At the road into town, Antonio Tino prepares tacos at his small, open-air truck stop. He worked in the United States four times in landscaping and construction. After his last trip in 2004, he had $5,000 saved.

''With the little I earned, I built my house and set up this business,'' Tino said. His Tacos Judith cost him $2,000.

Tino has several brothers who live in the United States, as well as a son and a daughter, who sends $400 to $600 a month from her job as a seamstress in North Carolina.

Tino's oldest daughter, María Salud, who works at the taco stand, said her husband, Modesto Guerrero, had just returned from two years of working at a lumber mill in California. He used to send her $400 a month.

She spent most of that money on food for herself and two children. But she also managed to pay off a small plot of land on the outskirts of nearby Patzcuaro where she has a house. ''My husband is thinking about going back,'' she said.

The trip across the border is a harrowing hike through the Arizona desert. Human smugglers charge $2,000 to lead groups of men, women and children, bottles of water strapped to their backs, for a trudge that may last as long as a week and can end in death.

Farmer José Guadalupe has gone to the United States three times to pick apples, peaches, grapes and cherries. On one trip, he could pay the smugglers only $1,000 up front and paid the rest after he had earned the balance.

It is a solemn pledge among the people who make the trek to become illegal workers in the United States: ''We have given our word that we will pay because they helped us get across the border,'' he said.

The U.S. legislation that proposed legalizing about 12 million illegal workers held out hope for residents of towns such as Opopeo. But its defeat means that not much will change.

Despite risky border crossings and the expense of making the trip north, the lure of the United States remains strong.

Tino, for example, said he is trying to arrange a guest visa for his son-in-law so he can travel legally across the border.

Guadalupe said he would prefer to stay home, rather than travel as an illegal migrant. ''My father goes there, but he has papers,'' Guadalupe said. ``I have to go as a wetback, and it is dangerous.''

Standing in waist-high corn on the edge of Opopeo, Guadalupe described how tough it is to be poor in Mexico. He will share half of any profits from the corn with the owner of the land.

But if the crop fails because of pests or drought, there are no government price supports, no emergency aid. The North American Free Trade Agreement set the stage for the withdrawal of government support programs for Mexico's impoverished countryside, which has contributed to the exodus of more than one million farmers from the land and a tripling of the number of migrants to the United States, according to development experts.

''It is God's will,'' Guadalupe said. ``If the crop fails, I have to see what I can do to eat.''

And that could prompt one more trip north to find work.