The back of a faded 1960s postcard addressed to “John and Elsie” in Los An geles reads “heading south (warmer), great life here in Tijuana.” Nowadays it’s hard to imagine Mexico’s preeminent border town being referred to in such glowing terms. For decades it’s been fodder for drunken-gringo tales of debaucherous adventures. More recently, narco-violence and now bigger walls and immigration battles dominate Tijuana’s narrative. Flip that old postcard over and you’ll be transported to a time and place where things were more glamorous across the border. There’s a photo of a majestic arabesque edifice with an inviting bright-red sign that says “Jai Alai.” The header on the postcard reads “Fronton Palace, Jai Alai— the most fascinating game in the world.” More recently, 62-year-old Beques Ramos Elorduy was enjoying a rainy Saturday after noon off of Tijuana’s main Revolución drag from a corner seat at Chiki Jai, a historic local Basque restaurant that dates back to the 1940s. He was having some laughs with a friend over beers, shots of tequila, and plates of Spanish tapas.