Walking through the lively districts of Harajuku and Shibuya in Tokyo, one might encounter a sight unusual to many people's eyes: men in skirts. Not kilts or kimono, but skirts.
Called "the skirt boys," or "skirt tribe," the skirt-wearing men of Tokyo are beginning to get some attention from the fashion world. And so, though it may be a little rude, I have to ask: How is this different from being a cross-dresser?
I see my first skirt-clad man in Harajuku on a weekday afternoon, his garment made of an almost transparent white cotton, with pretty geometric designs along the hem. He is a second-year art student named Haruki Shana.
"I liked the way the hem flutters in the wind," he says. "I got it at a used clothes shop for 1,000 yen."
Shana says he first wanted a skirt after seeing the robes in the "Harry Potter" films, and now has four that he made himself. He also says that he first became aware he was part of a trend when an employee at the driver's license testing center said, "So, there really is a skirt tribe."
When asked how wearing skirt is different than cross-dressing, Shana says, "Cross-dressers are people who want to be girls. I'm not wearing this because it's what girls wear, but because I like the line and the texture of the material."
His immediate family hasn't passed comment, but a number of his extended relations live in his neighborhood, and he's careful not to be seen on days he wears one of his skirts.
The following day, I came across another of "the skirt boys" around the same spot. He was wearing a yellow jersey-like top and a checked skirt of about the same color, extending around 10 centimeters below the knee. A pair of sandals completed the look. When I tried to approach him, he looked embarrassed and slipped into the crowd.
At an Indian wares shop on Takeshita Street in the heart of Harajuku, staff noticed about six men buying sarongs during the summer.
"There are many ways to wear a sarong," says a 24-year-old shop clerk. "They feel like they really take to the shape of your body."
How do people in the fashion industry see the skirt tribe?
"As the line of men's clothes becomes more androgynous, a skirt comes in handy for setting the full form of an outfit, that is, if you feel it's beautiful," says Tomoyuki Ota, editor-in-chief of the men's fashion magazine Smart. As to the emergent trend's difference from cross-dressing, Ota says, "The major point there is whether skirts suit a particular man." Smart is currently considering running a skirt boy special in an upcoming issue.
Street fashion news site Fashionsnap.com operator Reona Mitsuyama says that, along with skirts, men's heels and slim, muscular physiques are forming the basis for a "slim macho" look that is just now gaining popularity.
"More than whether a look is manly or feminine, there are more men now who think that, as long as it's stylish, it's good," Mitsuyama says. "As disparities widen in this competitive society, there are more non-aggressive men who prize choosing their own lifestyle over conventional social status -- a spirit that has come to be reflected in their fashion," she concludes. (By Tsukimi Goda, City News Department)
(Mainichi Japan) October 25, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Asia-Pacific leaders agree to shift focus of climate conference
At a Singapore meeting with President Obama and other leaders, the Danish prime minister, who will host the Copenhagen conference, proposes aiming for a political agreement as a preliminary step.
By Peter Nicholas
9:04 PM PST, November 14, 2009
Reporting from Singapore
President Obama and leaders of other Asia-Pacific countries reached a consensus early Sunday that it is unlikely that negotiators can achieve a binding accord to limit climate change at an international conference next month, and should instead focus on a more limited agreement.
Danish Prime Minister Lars Lokke Rasmussen, who will host the Copenhagen conference, flew to Singapore and laid out a two-step process at a hastily arranged breakfast meeting, according to the White House.
Under his plan, negotiators in Copenhagen would try to reach a political agreement on attacking climate change as a prelude to a later, legally binding accord.
A senior Obama administration official who attended the meeting said, "There was broad consensus of support by the leaders" for Rasumussen's proposal. The official spoke on condition of anonymity.
The Danish prime minister's idea, which he has touted before, reflects a hard-eyed calculation that talks in Copenhagen will founder without an alternative approach.
"I don't think the negotiations have proceeded in such a way that any of the leaders thought it was likely that we were going to achieve a final agreement in Copenhagen, and yet thought that it was important that Copenhagen be an important step forward," said Michael Froman, deputy national security advisor for economic affairs.
Froman said that Obama spoke in favor of Rasmussen's proposal.
Nineteen of the 21 members of the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation forum were present at the meeting, including Chinese President Hu Jintao. China and the United States are the two largest emitters of the gases that cause global warming.
"There was a realistic assessment . . . by the leaders that it was unrealistic to expect a full internationally legally binding agreement to be negotiated between now and when Copenhagen starts in 22 days," Froman said.
Negotiations leading to the Copenhagen conference have foundered on disputes between developed countries and those with developing economies. Developed countries want all countries to agree to binding limits on greenhouse gases. Developing countries say they need more flexibility than binding targets would give them, and they need more aid from the wealthiest countries to achieve reductions in emissions.
In his remarks, Obama told his counterparts they face two choices, Froman said. One is to declare that they had tried and failed to reach a deal, but pledge to keep trying. The second is to "see if we could reach the sort of accord that the Danish prime minister laid out that would have immediate operational impact," Froman said.
Asked whether Hu seemed open to the path suggested by Rasmussen, Froman said, "I think he supported the concept of . . . making progress in Copenhagen, the importance of that, and using Copenhagen as a step toward resolving the overall issues."
Obama and other Asian-Pacific leaders are in Singapore for a series of meetings on economic issues. Obama arrived Saturday night and is scheduled to leave today for Shanghai.
The president is in the midst of a week-long tour of Asia, his first since taking office.
peter.nicholas@latimes.com
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
By Peter Nicholas
9:04 PM PST, November 14, 2009
Reporting from Singapore
President Obama and leaders of other Asia-Pacific countries reached a consensus early Sunday that it is unlikely that negotiators can achieve a binding accord to limit climate change at an international conference next month, and should instead focus on a more limited agreement.
Danish Prime Minister Lars Lokke Rasmussen, who will host the Copenhagen conference, flew to Singapore and laid out a two-step process at a hastily arranged breakfast meeting, according to the White House.
Under his plan, negotiators in Copenhagen would try to reach a political agreement on attacking climate change as a prelude to a later, legally binding accord.
A senior Obama administration official who attended the meeting said, "There was broad consensus of support by the leaders" for Rasumussen's proposal. The official spoke on condition of anonymity.
The Danish prime minister's idea, which he has touted before, reflects a hard-eyed calculation that talks in Copenhagen will founder without an alternative approach.
"I don't think the negotiations have proceeded in such a way that any of the leaders thought it was likely that we were going to achieve a final agreement in Copenhagen, and yet thought that it was important that Copenhagen be an important step forward," said Michael Froman, deputy national security advisor for economic affairs.
Froman said that Obama spoke in favor of Rasmussen's proposal.
Nineteen of the 21 members of the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation forum were present at the meeting, including Chinese President Hu Jintao. China and the United States are the two largest emitters of the gases that cause global warming.
"There was a realistic assessment . . . by the leaders that it was unrealistic to expect a full internationally legally binding agreement to be negotiated between now and when Copenhagen starts in 22 days," Froman said.
Negotiations leading to the Copenhagen conference have foundered on disputes between developed countries and those with developing economies. Developed countries want all countries to agree to binding limits on greenhouse gases. Developing countries say they need more flexibility than binding targets would give them, and they need more aid from the wealthiest countries to achieve reductions in emissions.
In his remarks, Obama told his counterparts they face two choices, Froman said. One is to declare that they had tried and failed to reach a deal, but pledge to keep trying. The second is to "see if we could reach the sort of accord that the Danish prime minister laid out that would have immediate operational impact," Froman said.
Asked whether Hu seemed open to the path suggested by Rasmussen, Froman said, "I think he supported the concept of . . . making progress in Copenhagen, the importance of that, and using Copenhagen as a step toward resolving the overall issues."
Obama and other Asian-Pacific leaders are in Singapore for a series of meetings on economic issues. Obama arrived Saturday night and is scheduled to leave today for Shanghai.
The president is in the midst of a week-long tour of Asia, his first since taking office.
peter.nicholas@latimes.com
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
Obama to press Asia to open markets and buy more U.S. imports
The president will urge leaders to do more to 'rebalance' the global economy by increasing domestic consumption and focusing less on exporting to American consumers.
By Don Lee and David Pierson
November 13, 2009
Reporting from Washington and Beijing
On the eve of his first Pacific trip since entering the White House, President Obama signaled Thursday that he would press Asian leaders to open up their markets and boost purchases of U.S. goods instead of relentlessly focusing on exporting more and more to American consumers.
In remarks made before leaving Washington on the seven-day, four-nation trip, the president suggested that Asia must do more to "rebalance" the global economy by accepting more U.S. imports, increasing its own domestic consumption and relying less on Americans as buyers of last resort.
In part, Obama's remarks were aimed at reassuring a domestic audience that is struggling with double-digit unemployment. But they come as China, Japan and other countries on his itinerary are emerging from downturns of their own, and where the prospect of throttling back their economies to help the U.S. won't be popular.
"I think he's going to face a very, very tough reception on this" part of the mission, said Drew Thompson, director of China Studies at the Nixon Center, a think tank in Washington.
In China, which is at the center of his journey, policymakers have for years acknowledged that a shift toward more domestic consumption will help reduce the nation's reliance on foreign markets and give other countries a greater share of trade.
The problem is such reform requires lifting financial and political controls that China's rulers are in no rush to surrender.
Among them is a chief sticking point, the Chinese currency, which has long been seen as undervalued. Beijing has pegged the yuan to the dollar since the financial crisis began and it has recently sunk with the declining greenback, making China's exports even more attractive. This has given China a larger share of exports even though exports as a whole worldwide have shrunk.
Not surprisingly, American manufacturers aren't happy. They scored a major victory when Obama imposed tariffs on cheap Chinese tires in September. And last week, the U.S. imposed duties on Chinese steel pipes. China has responded by launching probes of U.S. auto parts and chicken.
The significance of the spats may be more symbolic, however, amounting to only a fraction of the $212 billion in trade the two countries shared this year. Obama has said he will discuss the Chinese currency, but he also will need to assure the Chinese that there is no protectionist strategy emanating from Washington.
"There has been real disappointment about the Obama administration on trade," said Liu Baocheng, a professor at the University of International Business and Economics in Beijing. "We expected more positive proposals to strengthen the economic relationship."
Beijing will also want assurances that the president will control inflation, and thus not jeopardize its $797-billion investment in U.S. treasuries.
Obama was careful not to label China a manipulator of its currency last month, and there are signals that the yuan may appreciate. A Chinese central bank report released Wednesday hinted that it might consider other financial trends in determining the value of the currency. Analysts are expecting a modest hike sometime next year.
"I think this colors everything" said Oded Shenkar, a management professor at Ohio State University and author of "The Chinese Century," referring to U.S. foreign debt.
"We don't want the Chinese to stop buying our bonds," Shenkar said. "This is where the domestic agenda and printing a lot of money and taking on enormous debt meets with the foreign agenda. Historically, countries that are struggling with financial debt had problems projecting global power."
Senior White House aides have downplayed expectations of breakthroughs or tangible "deliverables" from the trip, which will begin with a speech in Tokyo on Saturday and include the 21-member Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation summit.
Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-Calif.) sees Obama's trip as a vital part of securing U.S. interests. "China is a dynamic country on the rise . . . and it needs to be understood," she said. "I think President Obama can have an enormously beneficial impact on this relationship."
Although some analysts say Sino-U.S. relations are as strong as they've ever been, deep mistrust lingers, especially over military and economic interests. That uneasiness may be all the greater since Obama, as analysts expect, will deliver a strong message that the U.S. intends to keep playing a major role in the region.
China's neighbors, however haltingly and uneasily, are responding to the gravitational pull of the Middle Kingdom, which is moving toward levels of economic and military strength not enjoyed by Beijing in more than a century.
"The perception in Asia is the U.S. is on a decline, that the era of Pax Americana may be over," said Minxin Pei, a China specialist who directs the Keck Center for International and Strategic Studies at Claremont McKenna College. "The U.S. wants to reassure its allies and friends, 'Don't think we're ceding the region to China.' "
No place may be as sensitive to such a message as Japan, America's strongest Asian ally since its rebirth after World War II and the world's second-largest economy. In Tokyo's Suntory Hall on Saturday, Obama is expected to deliver a major speech on U.S. engagement in Asia and the U.S.-Japan alliance.
Japan's new government, led by the Democratic Party of Japan, has indicated that it wants a more equal partnership with Washington, which Obama administration officials say the U.S. is prepared to move toward.
Obama will have at least one thing going for him: Like much of the rest of the world, many Japanese and other Asians are intrigued by the youthful president, all the more so because he spent four years of his childhood in Indonesia. Obama's first stop in China will be in Shanghai, where he's expected to hold a town-hall style session with Chinese students.
What remains to be seen is how that event and, more broadly, how Obama's communication skills will translate to an Asian audience and culture. Will the president capture the moment as he did in tours of Europe, where he won praise for rejecting the unilateralism of his predecessor, or Cairo, where he eloquently extended the hand of openness to the Muslim world?
"I'm not sure the Obama spell will have the same effect," said Jean-Pierre Lehmann, a frequent visitor to China and a founder of the Evian Group, a free-trade advocacy group in Switzerland. He points out that in China, Obama is dealing with thorny issues such as global warming and trade imbalances that won't be solved by soaring rhetoric.
Although Obama and Chinese President Hu Jintao may announce joint efforts on efficient energy programs and modest progress toward a hoped-for international climate agreement in Copenhagen next month, nobody is expecting a signing of major agreements in China or in South Korea, Obama's final stop.
In Beijing, Obama is likely to discuss sensitive issues of security in the Taiwan straits as well as human rights, Tibet and Beijing's role in places such as Sudan, where China has strong economic interests.
On trade, Obama's visit comes as China appears to be leaping toward economic recovery. Industrial production is up, exports are rebounding, and stocks and real estate are soaring.
China's growing global influence and financial power -- its economy is now about 33% of America's compared with 12% at the start of the decade -- prompted Obama and other world leaders in September to replace the clubby Group of 8 with the more inclusive Group of 20 as the permanent body of international economic cooperation.
Picking up where that meeting left off, Obama will ask China to balance its economy and not rely so much on the exports that over-leveraged Americans so dutifully consumed before the crisis.
don.lee@latimes.com
david.pierson@latimes.com
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
By Don Lee and David Pierson
November 13, 2009
Reporting from Washington and Beijing
On the eve of his first Pacific trip since entering the White House, President Obama signaled Thursday that he would press Asian leaders to open up their markets and boost purchases of U.S. goods instead of relentlessly focusing on exporting more and more to American consumers.
In remarks made before leaving Washington on the seven-day, four-nation trip, the president suggested that Asia must do more to "rebalance" the global economy by accepting more U.S. imports, increasing its own domestic consumption and relying less on Americans as buyers of last resort.
In part, Obama's remarks were aimed at reassuring a domestic audience that is struggling with double-digit unemployment. But they come as China, Japan and other countries on his itinerary are emerging from downturns of their own, and where the prospect of throttling back their economies to help the U.S. won't be popular.
"I think he's going to face a very, very tough reception on this" part of the mission, said Drew Thompson, director of China Studies at the Nixon Center, a think tank in Washington.
In China, which is at the center of his journey, policymakers have for years acknowledged that a shift toward more domestic consumption will help reduce the nation's reliance on foreign markets and give other countries a greater share of trade.
The problem is such reform requires lifting financial and political controls that China's rulers are in no rush to surrender.
Among them is a chief sticking point, the Chinese currency, which has long been seen as undervalued. Beijing has pegged the yuan to the dollar since the financial crisis began and it has recently sunk with the declining greenback, making China's exports even more attractive. This has given China a larger share of exports even though exports as a whole worldwide have shrunk.
Not surprisingly, American manufacturers aren't happy. They scored a major victory when Obama imposed tariffs on cheap Chinese tires in September. And last week, the U.S. imposed duties on Chinese steel pipes. China has responded by launching probes of U.S. auto parts and chicken.
The significance of the spats may be more symbolic, however, amounting to only a fraction of the $212 billion in trade the two countries shared this year. Obama has said he will discuss the Chinese currency, but he also will need to assure the Chinese that there is no protectionist strategy emanating from Washington.
"There has been real disappointment about the Obama administration on trade," said Liu Baocheng, a professor at the University of International Business and Economics in Beijing. "We expected more positive proposals to strengthen the economic relationship."
Beijing will also want assurances that the president will control inflation, and thus not jeopardize its $797-billion investment in U.S. treasuries.
Obama was careful not to label China a manipulator of its currency last month, and there are signals that the yuan may appreciate. A Chinese central bank report released Wednesday hinted that it might consider other financial trends in determining the value of the currency. Analysts are expecting a modest hike sometime next year.
"I think this colors everything" said Oded Shenkar, a management professor at Ohio State University and author of "The Chinese Century," referring to U.S. foreign debt.
"We don't want the Chinese to stop buying our bonds," Shenkar said. "This is where the domestic agenda and printing a lot of money and taking on enormous debt meets with the foreign agenda. Historically, countries that are struggling with financial debt had problems projecting global power."
Senior White House aides have downplayed expectations of breakthroughs or tangible "deliverables" from the trip, which will begin with a speech in Tokyo on Saturday and include the 21-member Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation summit.
Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-Calif.) sees Obama's trip as a vital part of securing U.S. interests. "China is a dynamic country on the rise . . . and it needs to be understood," she said. "I think President Obama can have an enormously beneficial impact on this relationship."
Although some analysts say Sino-U.S. relations are as strong as they've ever been, deep mistrust lingers, especially over military and economic interests. That uneasiness may be all the greater since Obama, as analysts expect, will deliver a strong message that the U.S. intends to keep playing a major role in the region.
China's neighbors, however haltingly and uneasily, are responding to the gravitational pull of the Middle Kingdom, which is moving toward levels of economic and military strength not enjoyed by Beijing in more than a century.
"The perception in Asia is the U.S. is on a decline, that the era of Pax Americana may be over," said Minxin Pei, a China specialist who directs the Keck Center for International and Strategic Studies at Claremont McKenna College. "The U.S. wants to reassure its allies and friends, 'Don't think we're ceding the region to China.' "
No place may be as sensitive to such a message as Japan, America's strongest Asian ally since its rebirth after World War II and the world's second-largest economy. In Tokyo's Suntory Hall on Saturday, Obama is expected to deliver a major speech on U.S. engagement in Asia and the U.S.-Japan alliance.
Japan's new government, led by the Democratic Party of Japan, has indicated that it wants a more equal partnership with Washington, which Obama administration officials say the U.S. is prepared to move toward.
Obama will have at least one thing going for him: Like much of the rest of the world, many Japanese and other Asians are intrigued by the youthful president, all the more so because he spent four years of his childhood in Indonesia. Obama's first stop in China will be in Shanghai, where he's expected to hold a town-hall style session with Chinese students.
What remains to be seen is how that event and, more broadly, how Obama's communication skills will translate to an Asian audience and culture. Will the president capture the moment as he did in tours of Europe, where he won praise for rejecting the unilateralism of his predecessor, or Cairo, where he eloquently extended the hand of openness to the Muslim world?
"I'm not sure the Obama spell will have the same effect," said Jean-Pierre Lehmann, a frequent visitor to China and a founder of the Evian Group, a free-trade advocacy group in Switzerland. He points out that in China, Obama is dealing with thorny issues such as global warming and trade imbalances that won't be solved by soaring rhetoric.
Although Obama and Chinese President Hu Jintao may announce joint efforts on efficient energy programs and modest progress toward a hoped-for international climate agreement in Copenhagen next month, nobody is expecting a signing of major agreements in China or in South Korea, Obama's final stop.
In Beijing, Obama is likely to discuss sensitive issues of security in the Taiwan straits as well as human rights, Tibet and Beijing's role in places such as Sudan, where China has strong economic interests.
On trade, Obama's visit comes as China appears to be leaping toward economic recovery. Industrial production is up, exports are rebounding, and stocks and real estate are soaring.
China's growing global influence and financial power -- its economy is now about 33% of America's compared with 12% at the start of the decade -- prompted Obama and other world leaders in September to replace the clubby Group of 8 with the more inclusive Group of 20 as the permanent body of international economic cooperation.
Picking up where that meeting left off, Obama will ask China to balance its economy and not rely so much on the exports that over-leveraged Americans so dutifully consumed before the crisis.
don.lee@latimes.com
david.pierson@latimes.com
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
A 'grand bargain' for North Korea
A visiting President Obama and his South Korean host agree on an offer to the North. Free trade is also key in Seoul talks.
By John M. Glionna and Peter Nicholas
November 19, 2009
Reporting from Seoul
President Obama met today with South Korean President Lee Myung-bak, calling for North Korea to take "serious steps" to give up its nuclear weapons and committing himself to reviving a free-trade deal between Seoul and Washington that has stalled in the U.S. Congress.
In a nationally televised joint news conference, Lee said the two presidents agreed to offer North Korea a "grand bargain" designed to provide the North with security guarantees and economic assistance in exchange for dismantling its core nuclear programs.
The last stop on Obama's weeklong Asia tour was expected to be a bit of a diplomatic breather after the sticky foreign policy issues the U.S. president faced during stops in Japan and China.
On the eve of Obama's visit, during which he planned to meet with U.S. troops stationed here, South Korea announced the expansion of its presence in Afghanistan, saying it will send more troops and contractors to aid the U.S. effort there.
Standing on red-carpeted steps at Seoul's Blue House before colorful military regiments and waving children, Obama called the welcome the most spectacular ceremony he's enjoyed so far in Asia.
Lee presented his counterpart, who has studied the Korean self-defense art taekwondo, with a uniform and black belt in the discipline.
Still, serious issues loomed, most critically the efforts to bring North Korea back to the so-called six-party talks.
Obama also reiterated his plan to hold direct talks with North Korea. U.S. special envoy Stephen Bosworth is scheduled to visit Pyongyang, the North Korean capital, next month in an effort to restart the multilateral talks involving the United States, North Korea, South Korea, China, Japan and Russia.
Analysts in South Korea described comments made by both countries on the looming threat of North Korean leader Kim Jong Il's growing nuclear arsenal as "well couched."
"They could not show their cards before the American envoy's visit to Pyongyang," said Chang Yong-seok, research director at the Institute for Peace Affairs in Seoul.
North Korea conducted a nuclear test in May and later abrogated the 1953 cease-fire agreement that ended the Korean War.
On another matter, Obama expressed impatience with Iran during the news conference, saying that he and U.S. allies are developing a package of sanctions that would be leveled against the country if it failed to accept a proposal curbing its nuclear program.
He was asked about a report that Iran has spurned the offer to relinquish its nuclear ambitions in return for assistance in developing nuclear energy for peaceful purposes.
"Iran has taken weeks now and has not shown a willingness to say yes," Obama said. "I've not seen the report, but we've seen indications that whether it's for internal political reasons or they're stuck in their own rhetoric, they have been unable to get to yes."
After the news conference, one of his top advisors, David Axelrod, rejected arguments that Obama has proved too accommodating -- particularly in dealings with China -- and failed to gain concessions on economic issues.
"We're laying the foundation for progress. Whether it's climate change, security issues, economic issues, the discussions that we had on this trip advanced our goals," Axelrod said.
Obama's visit came barely a week after a naval skirmish heightened tensions between North and South -- highlighting the conservative Lee's aggressive stance on North Korea.
Obama said American and South Korean officials were working to overcome obstacles that remained in the way of a free-trade pact.
In his major speech in Asia, delivered last weekend in Tokyo, Obama had pledged to "move forward" on a free-trade pact with Seoul.
But in a private meeting, Obama told the South Korean trade minister that "we have a lot of work to do," according to the semiofficial Yonhap news agency.
The main sticking point has been autos. South Korea is a major exporter of cars to the U.S., but very few vehicles made in America are sold in South Korea, an imbalance that many analysts say is largely market driven and not a result of trade barriers.
Nonetheless, pressed by organized labor, key members of Congress in states such as Michigan and Ohio have blocked the trade agreement, insisting that additional measures and safeguards be put in place to boost American car shipments to South Korea.
During the news conference, Lee told Obama, "If the car [issue] is a problem, we are ready to talk again."
john.glionna@latimes.com
peter.nicholas@latimes.com
Times staff writer Don Lee in Washington and special correspondent Ju-min Park in Seoul contributed to this report.
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
By John M. Glionna and Peter Nicholas
November 19, 2009
Reporting from Seoul
President Obama met today with South Korean President Lee Myung-bak, calling for North Korea to take "serious steps" to give up its nuclear weapons and committing himself to reviving a free-trade deal between Seoul and Washington that has stalled in the U.S. Congress.
In a nationally televised joint news conference, Lee said the two presidents agreed to offer North Korea a "grand bargain" designed to provide the North with security guarantees and economic assistance in exchange for dismantling its core nuclear programs.
The last stop on Obama's weeklong Asia tour was expected to be a bit of a diplomatic breather after the sticky foreign policy issues the U.S. president faced during stops in Japan and China.
On the eve of Obama's visit, during which he planned to meet with U.S. troops stationed here, South Korea announced the expansion of its presence in Afghanistan, saying it will send more troops and contractors to aid the U.S. effort there.
Standing on red-carpeted steps at Seoul's Blue House before colorful military regiments and waving children, Obama called the welcome the most spectacular ceremony he's enjoyed so far in Asia.
Lee presented his counterpart, who has studied the Korean self-defense art taekwondo, with a uniform and black belt in the discipline.
Still, serious issues loomed, most critically the efforts to bring North Korea back to the so-called six-party talks.
Obama also reiterated his plan to hold direct talks with North Korea. U.S. special envoy Stephen Bosworth is scheduled to visit Pyongyang, the North Korean capital, next month in an effort to restart the multilateral talks involving the United States, North Korea, South Korea, China, Japan and Russia.
Analysts in South Korea described comments made by both countries on the looming threat of North Korean leader Kim Jong Il's growing nuclear arsenal as "well couched."
"They could not show their cards before the American envoy's visit to Pyongyang," said Chang Yong-seok, research director at the Institute for Peace Affairs in Seoul.
North Korea conducted a nuclear test in May and later abrogated the 1953 cease-fire agreement that ended the Korean War.
On another matter, Obama expressed impatience with Iran during the news conference, saying that he and U.S. allies are developing a package of sanctions that would be leveled against the country if it failed to accept a proposal curbing its nuclear program.
He was asked about a report that Iran has spurned the offer to relinquish its nuclear ambitions in return for assistance in developing nuclear energy for peaceful purposes.
"Iran has taken weeks now and has not shown a willingness to say yes," Obama said. "I've not seen the report, but we've seen indications that whether it's for internal political reasons or they're stuck in their own rhetoric, they have been unable to get to yes."
After the news conference, one of his top advisors, David Axelrod, rejected arguments that Obama has proved too accommodating -- particularly in dealings with China -- and failed to gain concessions on economic issues.
"We're laying the foundation for progress. Whether it's climate change, security issues, economic issues, the discussions that we had on this trip advanced our goals," Axelrod said.
Obama's visit came barely a week after a naval skirmish heightened tensions between North and South -- highlighting the conservative Lee's aggressive stance on North Korea.
Obama said American and South Korean officials were working to overcome obstacles that remained in the way of a free-trade pact.
In his major speech in Asia, delivered last weekend in Tokyo, Obama had pledged to "move forward" on a free-trade pact with Seoul.
But in a private meeting, Obama told the South Korean trade minister that "we have a lot of work to do," according to the semiofficial Yonhap news agency.
The main sticking point has been autos. South Korea is a major exporter of cars to the U.S., but very few vehicles made in America are sold in South Korea, an imbalance that many analysts say is largely market driven and not a result of trade barriers.
Nonetheless, pressed by organized labor, key members of Congress in states such as Michigan and Ohio have blocked the trade agreement, insisting that additional measures and safeguards be put in place to boost American car shipments to South Korea.
During the news conference, Lee told Obama, "If the car [issue] is a problem, we are ready to talk again."
john.glionna@latimes.com
peter.nicholas@latimes.com
Times staff writer Don Lee in Washington and special correspondent Ju-min Park in Seoul contributed to this report.
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
U.S. in standoff with Beijing over Chinese currency
GLOBAL ECONOMY
By reducing the value of the yuan in lock step with the declining dollar, China is making it difficult for American exporters to gain ground in overseas markets.
By Don Lee and David Pierson
November 19, 2009
Reporting from Washington and Beijing
As President Obama's trip to Beijing proved, the days when U.S. leaders could jawbone China into making major changes in economic policy appear to be gone. Not only did the Chinese brush off Obama's appeals this week, they harangued the United States for its own shortcomings.
But the standoff in Beijing marked more than the changing balance of power between two countries -- one riding a wave of surging growth, the other still mired in troubles.
Although Obama wasn't expected to wring agreement from China's leaders, the tepid response the president got casts a shadow over prospects for reinvigorating the whole global economy.
The immediate issues in Beijing centered on highly technical matters of currency valuation and import-export policy. Beyond the arcane specifics, however, was the simple question of whether the leading economic powers could forge agreements on policies that promoted the overall welfare of the global economy.
And at least on the evidence of Obama's visit to Beijing, the answer may be no.
Although many nations in both Asia and the West are bound together in a system of trade and global finance, they have yet to develop an effective system for making policy decisions in the interest of the whole.
Instead, while rhetorically committed to cooperation, Beijing and other capitals make independent decisions, each for its own reasons, including short-term self-interest and internal politics.
Obama was not alone in asking Beijing to reconsider its economic strategy. Other developed nations and some emerging economies in Asia have made similar appeals. The head of the International Monetary Fund, Dominique Strauss-Kahn, was in Beijing making the same pitch during Obama's visit. He contended that change was in China's interest, as well as the world's.
All the appeals seemed to be turned away politely.
Nor was the larger problem visible only in Beijing. Throughout his Asia trip, Obama has pushed host governments to adopt policies that relied less on selling exports to U.S. consumers and to open up their markets to more U.S. goods. The responses were muted at best.
In the case of China, that means that, at least well into next year, it's likely to stick to a policy of using government authority to peg the value of its currency to the dollar instead of raising the yuan and gradually letting it fluctuate freely in response to independent market forces, as other major currencies do.
Since mid-2008, Beijing has kept the exchange rate fixed at about 6.8 yuan to the dollar.
China's policy of mandating a set relationship with the dollar helps the Chinese economy even as it hobbles efforts in the U.S. to create jobs and return to prosperity by stepping up American exports.
Theoretically, with the dollar falling in value, American products should be cheaper and more competitive in overseas markets.
But China, by reducing the value of the yuan in lock step with the declining dollar, makes it hard for U.S. companies to gain ground. China's already cheaper products remain cheaper.
One result is huge deficits for the U.S. in its trade with China. Even though the trade deficit has eased, it was still running at $165.8 billion in the first nine months of this year.
Much the same is true of some other countries, including some of China's neighbors, that are still struggling with the effects of the global financial crisis.
China's party line throughout has been that it seeks greater currency flexibility, but on its own timetable, not someone else's.
In part, China's refusal to bend reflects a growing nationalism.
Behind the scenes, it also masks a split between two powerful groups -- its central bank and China's huge job- and tax-generating manufacturing sector, supported by the Ministry of Commerce.
Officials of China's central bank have been warning political leaders that keeping the yuan artificially low could ultimately hurt China too by exacerbating the country's trade imbalance problem and bringing in a flood of so-called hot money, or speculative funds from investors.
To keep the yuan pegged to the dollar, "the central bank has to intervene enormously," said Michael Pettis, a professor of finance at Peking University. It's why China holds a record of nearly $2.3 trillion in foreign reserves as of September, most of it in dollar-denominated assets.
The central bank's position is getting a determined push-back from manufacturers and exporters -- especially along China's wealthy coast -- who stand to reap significant gains in the short term. If the yuan were to rise in value, China's exports would become more expensive relative to goods in the U.S. and other foreign markets.
"It's not the right time for the [yuan] to appreciate," said Wu Haoliang, general secretary of the Foshan Textile Assn., which represents about 3,000 manufacturers in Guangdong province in southeast China.
"Exports are not looking optimistic at all. We're continuing to decline," he added. "We know under the current environment that depreciation is not possible."
Twice a year, a small group of association leaders like Wu, usually no more than 20 people, get together with government officials to air their concerns. Wu said they last met over the summer, and sitting in was an official from the central government's National Development and Reform Commission, an important policymaking body.
"They pay attention," Wu said. "But most of the time they can't give you a direct answer. They have to go back to Beijing and discuss policy."
Aside from lobbying or sniping between ministries and other groups over the currency, any movement on the subject would be deliberated by the Politburo, the inner sanctum of the Chinese Communist Party, said Arthur Kroeber, managing director of Dragonomics, a Beijing economic research firm.
Kroeber added that despite some terse remarks from officials on the currency, negotiations between U.S. and Chinese were almost certainly more constructive.
But soft as Obama's selling style apparently was, there was no indication that the Chinese would make a move to revalue their currency any time soon.
"That's part of what's needed to re-balance the economy," said Victor Shih, a China political economy specialist at Northwestern University.
Some financial analysts are predicting a modest increase in the yuan in the first half of next year, but Shih thinks it may come later.
Given the domestic pressures facing Beijing, Shih said he didn't expect Chinese leaders to make a move on currency until exports stay positive for at least two quarters in a row. Exports were down nearly 14% in October.
don.lee@latimes.com
david.pierson@latimes.com
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
By reducing the value of the yuan in lock step with the declining dollar, China is making it difficult for American exporters to gain ground in overseas markets.
By Don Lee and David Pierson
November 19, 2009
Reporting from Washington and Beijing
As President Obama's trip to Beijing proved, the days when U.S. leaders could jawbone China into making major changes in economic policy appear to be gone. Not only did the Chinese brush off Obama's appeals this week, they harangued the United States for its own shortcomings.
But the standoff in Beijing marked more than the changing balance of power between two countries -- one riding a wave of surging growth, the other still mired in troubles.
Although Obama wasn't expected to wring agreement from China's leaders, the tepid response the president got casts a shadow over prospects for reinvigorating the whole global economy.
The immediate issues in Beijing centered on highly technical matters of currency valuation and import-export policy. Beyond the arcane specifics, however, was the simple question of whether the leading economic powers could forge agreements on policies that promoted the overall welfare of the global economy.
And at least on the evidence of Obama's visit to Beijing, the answer may be no.
Although many nations in both Asia and the West are bound together in a system of trade and global finance, they have yet to develop an effective system for making policy decisions in the interest of the whole.
Instead, while rhetorically committed to cooperation, Beijing and other capitals make independent decisions, each for its own reasons, including short-term self-interest and internal politics.
Obama was not alone in asking Beijing to reconsider its economic strategy. Other developed nations and some emerging economies in Asia have made similar appeals. The head of the International Monetary Fund, Dominique Strauss-Kahn, was in Beijing making the same pitch during Obama's visit. He contended that change was in China's interest, as well as the world's.
All the appeals seemed to be turned away politely.
Nor was the larger problem visible only in Beijing. Throughout his Asia trip, Obama has pushed host governments to adopt policies that relied less on selling exports to U.S. consumers and to open up their markets to more U.S. goods. The responses were muted at best.
In the case of China, that means that, at least well into next year, it's likely to stick to a policy of using government authority to peg the value of its currency to the dollar instead of raising the yuan and gradually letting it fluctuate freely in response to independent market forces, as other major currencies do.
Since mid-2008, Beijing has kept the exchange rate fixed at about 6.8 yuan to the dollar.
China's policy of mandating a set relationship with the dollar helps the Chinese economy even as it hobbles efforts in the U.S. to create jobs and return to prosperity by stepping up American exports.
Theoretically, with the dollar falling in value, American products should be cheaper and more competitive in overseas markets.
But China, by reducing the value of the yuan in lock step with the declining dollar, makes it hard for U.S. companies to gain ground. China's already cheaper products remain cheaper.
One result is huge deficits for the U.S. in its trade with China. Even though the trade deficit has eased, it was still running at $165.8 billion in the first nine months of this year.
Much the same is true of some other countries, including some of China's neighbors, that are still struggling with the effects of the global financial crisis.
China's party line throughout has been that it seeks greater currency flexibility, but on its own timetable, not someone else's.
In part, China's refusal to bend reflects a growing nationalism.
Behind the scenes, it also masks a split between two powerful groups -- its central bank and China's huge job- and tax-generating manufacturing sector, supported by the Ministry of Commerce.
Officials of China's central bank have been warning political leaders that keeping the yuan artificially low could ultimately hurt China too by exacerbating the country's trade imbalance problem and bringing in a flood of so-called hot money, or speculative funds from investors.
To keep the yuan pegged to the dollar, "the central bank has to intervene enormously," said Michael Pettis, a professor of finance at Peking University. It's why China holds a record of nearly $2.3 trillion in foreign reserves as of September, most of it in dollar-denominated assets.
The central bank's position is getting a determined push-back from manufacturers and exporters -- especially along China's wealthy coast -- who stand to reap significant gains in the short term. If the yuan were to rise in value, China's exports would become more expensive relative to goods in the U.S. and other foreign markets.
"It's not the right time for the [yuan] to appreciate," said Wu Haoliang, general secretary of the Foshan Textile Assn., which represents about 3,000 manufacturers in Guangdong province in southeast China.
"Exports are not looking optimistic at all. We're continuing to decline," he added. "We know under the current environment that depreciation is not possible."
Twice a year, a small group of association leaders like Wu, usually no more than 20 people, get together with government officials to air their concerns. Wu said they last met over the summer, and sitting in was an official from the central government's National Development and Reform Commission, an important policymaking body.
"They pay attention," Wu said. "But most of the time they can't give you a direct answer. They have to go back to Beijing and discuss policy."
Aside from lobbying or sniping between ministries and other groups over the currency, any movement on the subject would be deliberated by the Politburo, the inner sanctum of the Chinese Communist Party, said Arthur Kroeber, managing director of Dragonomics, a Beijing economic research firm.
Kroeber added that despite some terse remarks from officials on the currency, negotiations between U.S. and Chinese were almost certainly more constructive.
But soft as Obama's selling style apparently was, there was no indication that the Chinese would make a move to revalue their currency any time soon.
"That's part of what's needed to re-balance the economy," said Victor Shih, a China political economy specialist at Northwestern University.
Some financial analysts are predicting a modest increase in the yuan in the first half of next year, but Shih thinks it may come later.
Given the domestic pressures facing Beijing, Shih said he didn't expect Chinese leaders to make a move on currency until exports stay positive for at least two quarters in a row. Exports were down nearly 14% in October.
don.lee@latimes.com
david.pierson@latimes.com
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
Man unable to enter China languishes in Tokyo airport
FOREIGN EXCHANGE
Activist Feng Zhenghu has been sitting near the customs booths at Narita International Airport for nearly three weeks, refusing to enter Japan in hopes his protest will gain him entry back home.
By John M. Glionna and Catherine Makino
8:12 PM PST, November 18, 2009
Reporting from Tokyo and Seoul
He is a man caught between two countries, a political protester who has stubbornly steeled himself inside the sterile purgatory of Tokyo's Narita International Airport.
Each day, Feng Zhenghu sits on a bench in front of the Japanese customs booths, calmly looking on as tens of thousands of arriving passengers go by, resigning himself to residence in a diplomatic no man's land.
He refuses to pass through government customs because that would mean entering Japan -- something Feng has decided he simply will not do. He wants to go home to China.
Eight times since June, the 55-year-old activist has been rebuffed by Chinese officials in his attempts to reenter his homeland, with no reason being given.
On four of the occasions, airlines in Japan didn't allow him to board. On the other four, he got as far as Shanghai's Pudong International Airport before being dispatched back to Tokyo.
During the last go-round, on Nov. 2, a defiant Feng drew the line: Arriving back at Narita, he refused to enter the country.
Feng, an economist turned human rights author and blogger, was sentenced in 2000 to three years in a Chinese prison for writing a book he said criticized Chinese regulations against foreign company investment.
He also believes a speech he once gave criticizing the 1989 Tiananmen Square crackdown is being held against him.
Still, he said, officials cannot banish him on mere pretense. Speaking on his cellphone recently, Feng said he would prefer to languish in a Chinese jail rather than live as a free man in Japan or anywhere else.
Although he is angry at his government, Feng misses his homeland -- his family, his friends, the feel of the place he has spent most of his life.
"I just want to go home," he told a reporter Wednesday, tears welling in his eyes as he spoke. "I'm Chinese. Why can't I go home? I didn't do anything illegal. I just wrote a book that didn't meet with the regulations of the Chinese government."
Feng's plight is reminiscent of that of the Tom Hanks character in Steven Spielberg's 2004 film "The Terminal." But this unlikely sojourner has no access to food courts or hot showers.
For 17 days now, he has kept a lonely vigil at the south arrival wing of Narita's hyper-busy Terminal 1. Many workers and travelers are unaware he's there, staging a protest in a nation where few people question authority.
The days are long. Feng gets to bed about midnight. He sleeps fitfully in a chair, often using his suitcase as a pillow. He rises at 6 a.m., jarred by the first passengers arriving on international flights.
On a white T-shirt, he has scrawled messages about his protest in both English and Mandarin -- pulling the garment over his luggage to create a small billboard.
One message reads, "The Chinese government is shameful."
He uses his cellphone to accept calls and send text messages. He also keeps a diary on his computer. He hasn't showered; instead he splashes water on his face in the restroom.
He eats only snacks -- candy, ramen noodles, cookies -- offered by well-meaning passengers and supporters.
Embarrassed airport authorities say they must follow regulations and would prefer that Feng enter Japan so they can be rid of him.
"Every day the officers gently try to coax me to leave," he said. "They say: 'It's a beautiful world out there. There's lots of good food to eat. All you have to do is walk through those doors.' "
For days Feng survived on tap water after Japanese officials refused to accept his money for snacks at airport eateries.
"The authorities obviously want to distance themselves," said Yang Jianli, a fellow at Harvard University's Kennedy School of Government. "At first they thought if no food or supplies were provided, he would give up and enter Japan. But they miscalculated his determination."
Yang, a onetime Chinese political prisoner who met Feng this fall at a human rights conference in Washington, is funding a campaign to supply the activist with food and emotional support.
With Feng lodged in a high-security area between the airplane disembarkation point and immigration, airport officials will not allow non-traveling airport visitors to meet with him. The only way to reach him is to arrive via plane at the south wing of Terminal 1 and greet him at customs.
Hong Kong activist Christina Chan learned that lesson the hard way. Arriving at the north wing of the terminal, she was not allowed to see Feng.
So Yang paid her fare back to Hong Kong, where she boarded a different flight she knew would land in the south wing.
"He looks better than I thought he'd look," Chan, a pro-Tibet student campaigner, said of Feng. "He believes that if he sticks to his struggle, they will eventually have to let him back into China.
"It's a theme familiar to many: the right to go home again."
Feng's sister, Natsuki Suzuki, who lives in Japan, has not been allowed to visit her brother. But she calls him often on his cellphone.
"My brother is stubborn," Suzuki said. "He insists there is only one way for him to go -- back to China."
Feng, who has studied law, says he traveled to Japan from China in April after being inexplicably jailed for 41 days there. Chinese officials insisted that he could return to Shanghai in June, after the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square crackdown, he said.
But when he tried to return in mid-June, authorities blocked his path and have rejected him since, Feng said.
One day at Narita, Feng spotted a top official in the Chinese Communist Party's international department passing by. He slipped a note to a member of his entourage but has not had a response.
Meanwhile, the sleepless nights and long days have begun to take their toll. Feng says he has started to feel weak. He has dark circles under his eyes and an open sore on his lower lip.
But he plans to stay put for as long as it takes to persuade the Chinese government to bend.
"I don't know how long I will stay," he said. "It all depends on the Chinese government."
john.glionna@latimes.com
Makino is a special correspondent.
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
Activist Feng Zhenghu has been sitting near the customs booths at Narita International Airport for nearly three weeks, refusing to enter Japan in hopes his protest will gain him entry back home.
By John M. Glionna and Catherine Makino
8:12 PM PST, November 18, 2009
Reporting from Tokyo and Seoul
He is a man caught between two countries, a political protester who has stubbornly steeled himself inside the sterile purgatory of Tokyo's Narita International Airport.
Each day, Feng Zhenghu sits on a bench in front of the Japanese customs booths, calmly looking on as tens of thousands of arriving passengers go by, resigning himself to residence in a diplomatic no man's land.
He refuses to pass through government customs because that would mean entering Japan -- something Feng has decided he simply will not do. He wants to go home to China.
Eight times since June, the 55-year-old activist has been rebuffed by Chinese officials in his attempts to reenter his homeland, with no reason being given.
On four of the occasions, airlines in Japan didn't allow him to board. On the other four, he got as far as Shanghai's Pudong International Airport before being dispatched back to Tokyo.
During the last go-round, on Nov. 2, a defiant Feng drew the line: Arriving back at Narita, he refused to enter the country.
Feng, an economist turned human rights author and blogger, was sentenced in 2000 to three years in a Chinese prison for writing a book he said criticized Chinese regulations against foreign company investment.
He also believes a speech he once gave criticizing the 1989 Tiananmen Square crackdown is being held against him.
Still, he said, officials cannot banish him on mere pretense. Speaking on his cellphone recently, Feng said he would prefer to languish in a Chinese jail rather than live as a free man in Japan or anywhere else.
Although he is angry at his government, Feng misses his homeland -- his family, his friends, the feel of the place he has spent most of his life.
"I just want to go home," he told a reporter Wednesday, tears welling in his eyes as he spoke. "I'm Chinese. Why can't I go home? I didn't do anything illegal. I just wrote a book that didn't meet with the regulations of the Chinese government."
Feng's plight is reminiscent of that of the Tom Hanks character in Steven Spielberg's 2004 film "The Terminal." But this unlikely sojourner has no access to food courts or hot showers.
For 17 days now, he has kept a lonely vigil at the south arrival wing of Narita's hyper-busy Terminal 1. Many workers and travelers are unaware he's there, staging a protest in a nation where few people question authority.
The days are long. Feng gets to bed about midnight. He sleeps fitfully in a chair, often using his suitcase as a pillow. He rises at 6 a.m., jarred by the first passengers arriving on international flights.
On a white T-shirt, he has scrawled messages about his protest in both English and Mandarin -- pulling the garment over his luggage to create a small billboard.
One message reads, "The Chinese government is shameful."
He uses his cellphone to accept calls and send text messages. He also keeps a diary on his computer. He hasn't showered; instead he splashes water on his face in the restroom.
He eats only snacks -- candy, ramen noodles, cookies -- offered by well-meaning passengers and supporters.
Embarrassed airport authorities say they must follow regulations and would prefer that Feng enter Japan so they can be rid of him.
"Every day the officers gently try to coax me to leave," he said. "They say: 'It's a beautiful world out there. There's lots of good food to eat. All you have to do is walk through those doors.' "
For days Feng survived on tap water after Japanese officials refused to accept his money for snacks at airport eateries.
"The authorities obviously want to distance themselves," said Yang Jianli, a fellow at Harvard University's Kennedy School of Government. "At first they thought if no food or supplies were provided, he would give up and enter Japan. But they miscalculated his determination."
Yang, a onetime Chinese political prisoner who met Feng this fall at a human rights conference in Washington, is funding a campaign to supply the activist with food and emotional support.
With Feng lodged in a high-security area between the airplane disembarkation point and immigration, airport officials will not allow non-traveling airport visitors to meet with him. The only way to reach him is to arrive via plane at the south wing of Terminal 1 and greet him at customs.
Hong Kong activist Christina Chan learned that lesson the hard way. Arriving at the north wing of the terminal, she was not allowed to see Feng.
So Yang paid her fare back to Hong Kong, where she boarded a different flight she knew would land in the south wing.
"He looks better than I thought he'd look," Chan, a pro-Tibet student campaigner, said of Feng. "He believes that if he sticks to his struggle, they will eventually have to let him back into China.
"It's a theme familiar to many: the right to go home again."
Feng's sister, Natsuki Suzuki, who lives in Japan, has not been allowed to visit her brother. But she calls him often on his cellphone.
"My brother is stubborn," Suzuki said. "He insists there is only one way for him to go -- back to China."
Feng, who has studied law, says he traveled to Japan from China in April after being inexplicably jailed for 41 days there. Chinese officials insisted that he could return to Shanghai in June, after the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square crackdown, he said.
But when he tried to return in mid-June, authorities blocked his path and have rejected him since, Feng said.
One day at Narita, Feng spotted a top official in the Chinese Communist Party's international department passing by. He slipped a note to a member of his entourage but has not had a response.
Meanwhile, the sleepless nights and long days have begun to take their toll. Feng says he has started to feel weak. He has dark circles under his eyes and an open sore on his lower lip.
But he plans to stay put for as long as it takes to persuade the Chinese government to bend.
"I don't know how long I will stay," he said. "It all depends on the Chinese government."
john.glionna@latimes.com
Makino is a special correspondent.
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
Tattoos have Japanese cover up
AFP October 29, 2009 9:43AM
SAMOAN-born All Black Rodney So'oialo, who has been put back at number-eight for the year's fourth and final trans-Tasman game in Tokyo on Saturday, has faced a culture clash this week over tattoos he and many of his team mates wear.
The All Blacks were told by team officials to cover up their tattooed arms and torsos with training vests when they took part in swimming pool sessions on Monday.
In Japan, tattoos traditionally associate a person with the yakuza, or Japanese mafia, who are heavily tattooed. Some public baths still refuse people entry if they have visible tattoos.
"Most people know that when you go to the pool in Japan you have to cover up. The players were reminded when we arrived,'' a team spokesman said. Asked about this, the 30-year-old So'oialo said tattoos on his left arm, including images of his family, had a "lot of meaning''.
"There is a lot of Asian heritage in mine and my wife's family,'' he said. "So the Asian tattoos are all over on my left arm.''
It will be the second time an Australia-New Zealand Test has played on neutral soil after a ground-breaker in Hong Kong last year. The two sides are on their way to end-of-year European tours.
SAMOAN-born All Black Rodney So'oialo, who has been put back at number-eight for the year's fourth and final trans-Tasman game in Tokyo on Saturday, has faced a culture clash this week over tattoos he and many of his team mates wear.
The All Blacks were told by team officials to cover up their tattooed arms and torsos with training vests when they took part in swimming pool sessions on Monday.
In Japan, tattoos traditionally associate a person with the yakuza, or Japanese mafia, who are heavily tattooed. Some public baths still refuse people entry if they have visible tattoos.
"Most people know that when you go to the pool in Japan you have to cover up. The players were reminded when we arrived,'' a team spokesman said. Asked about this, the 30-year-old So'oialo said tattoos on his left arm, including images of his family, had a "lot of meaning''.
"There is a lot of Asian heritage in mine and my wife's family,'' he said. "So the Asian tattoos are all over on my left arm.''
It will be the second time an Australia-New Zealand Test has played on neutral soil after a ground-breaker in Hong Kong last year. The two sides are on their way to end-of-year European tours.
Lucie Blackman, the dark world of Tokyo nightclub hostessing, and the man who made her an offer she couldn't refuse
By Clare Campbell
Last updated at 8:13 AM on 04th August 2009
Seeking money and excitement, Lucie Blackman left her home in Kent in May 2000 to find work in Tokyo as a nightclub hostess.
In the second part of an authoritative and groundbreaking book charting the life and death of the 21-year-old, we explain how she was instructed in the art of targeting wealthy customers. She was soon earning £1,500 a week - but other girls made more.
When one customer suggested Lucie boost her earnings by going to his apartment for a drink, she agreed, thinking it would be safe.
In fact, it would turn out to be the biggest mistake of her life...
Lucie Blackman and her best friend Louise Phillips stepped off the Virgin Atlantic flight from London at Tokyo’s Narita Airport on May 4, 2000. As former air stewardesses, they navigated their entry into this new world with the confidence of seasoned travellers.
They were tourists here to see the sights of fabulous Japan. Of course they were. The immigration inspector looked dispassionately at them before wearily stamping each passport. They were in.
Telling lies had been part of the crazy plan from the moment Louise had first thought of it.
There had been no discounted flight tickets courtesy of their former employer, British Airways - despite what Lucie had told her father. There was no ‘aunt’ of Louise’s to provide them with accommodation and nor would they be working legally, as they’d also assured Lucie’s dad.
Both of them were on tourist visas, like every other would-be gaijin (Western) bar hostess. They found somewhere to rent pretty quickly, a hostel sandwiched between the headquarters of the Japanese Communist Party Central Committee and an electricity substation. The price - 30,000 yen (£190) a month for a six-tatami room (six rush mats’ worth of floor space, about ten square metres). There were no carpets or soft furnishings, just a futon to sleep on and communal kitchen and bathroom. Even for seen-it-all Lucie, it was a shock. Pay all this money and what do you get?
They’d need a mobile phone, of course, but decided to rent one to share between them. Tokyo prices were jawdropping and Lucie’s credit card was already maxed out.
She needed money, and quickly, but that really was not going to be a problem.
Everything Lucie had ever heard or read about Tokyo seemed to be true. The city was vast, teeming, a megalopolis of 40 million. The way people held themselves was different; their body language as they swooped and manoeuvred like huge flocks of starlings. Wherever you went there was the crowd. An intense, crackling energy drove the city day and night.
Once they had settled in at the hostel, Lucie and Louise headed for Roppongi. Lucie knew all about it, or thought she did - Tokyo’s glittering, expensive, shiny entertainment district, the ‘favourite haunt of young Japanese and expats out for a night on the tiles’, as the guidebook blandly described it.
There was more to it than that, though. Roppongi was a legend among BA cabin crew. A place for hard-partiers, not backpackers, it had for decades been caught in that weird cultural hinterland of America-worship with a uniquely Japanese twist.
Roppongi was where Japanese men went to be entertained by gaijin girls and where Japanese women, who dressed up like schoolgirls tottering on stack heels, went to find gaijin boyfriends (it was a much commented-on phenomenon that nerdy gaijin men could date stunning Japanese girls. Being a foreigner of any sort in Japan was like being famous).
For a 21-year-old blonde from Sevenoaks who spoke no Japanese, finding work in Roppongi was not going to be a problem. The weekly freesheet for gaijin, Tokyo Classified, was full of ads: ‘Fun, exciting Club J F in Roppongi,’ wanted ‘genki (lively) girls who can entertain and like to enjoy themselves. Y2500 (£16) an hour plus tips. Call. We’re waiting.’
Club Climax was looking for ‘female dancers, hostesses, scouts, etc. Proper visa required’. That was a problem. So how about ‘Casablanca, now hiring Western hostesses. Very nice and friendly atmosphere Y3000-6000 (£20- £40) per hour plus bonus. Great business clientele’. No mention of visas there - and they were offering good money. Casablanca was the place.
Lucie and Louise glammed up and made their way to the club’s entrance with its tuxedoed doorman. He let them in without a word.
The manager, Tetsuo Nishi, eyed them professionally. These two were cool. He’d encountered their type many times before. Neither had work visas but what did that matter - they’d be gone in three months. Mama-san (the den mother) nodded her assent. They were hired.
The girls had struck lucky with Casablanca. It was one of the most popular (with Japanese men) clubs featuring foreign hostesses.
The place was comparatively small, done up like an over-upholstered living room, with black leather couches and dinky little tables, each just big enough for a bottle of whisky, a bottle of soda water and an ice bucket - with the obligatory karaoke system parked in one corner.
Chloe (not her real name), who was working at the club when Lucie and Louise showed up, remembered it clearly: ‘It was so bizarre, and so funny - that strange room with Ricky, the Filipino entertainer, launching into a desperate chorus of Do The Locomotion, while we sat laughing in the Doggy Box, a low sofa by the bar where we girls sat waiting for the men to pick us.
‘All the management told me when I started there was to “create a party atmosphere”.’
As new arrivals, Lucie and Louise were eyed with a certain suspicion by the other Casablanca girls. ‘New girls always stood out and were very popular with the customers,’ recalled Chloe.
‘I chatted to Louise first, who seemed very relaxed and in charge of herself. Then later she brought Lucie over. She was very different to Louise. She struck me as defensive, but at the same time very competitive.’
Lucie began on the nursery slopes of club work, as a kyaku-hiki (‘customerpuller’),handing out flyers in the streets, snuggling up to every drunk man walking by, trying to get him through the door with the strength of her bubbly personality. She hated it. ‘I feel like a prostitute standing on the corner,’ she told Louise.
After a few days, she was pulled inside by the mama-san to begin work properly as a hostess. Was she going to have a hostess name? Some girls called themselves things like ‘Passion’ or ‘Flame’. She’d stick with Lucie.
It would be printed on a business card with her personal mobile number (she’d certainly have to get one of those) and email address. Customers expected that.
There were plenty of dos and don’ts to learn. Girls were to be in their seats in
the Doggy Box by 7.30pm. When beckoned to a table with customers, hostesses were not allowed ‘private conversation’; indeed, chatting in any language besides Japanese or English was forbidden.
Make a mistake, break something, turn up late, and they would be fined. Habitual leg-crossing (considered especially vulgar) could mean being fired. Casablanca was tacky, with its sozzled manager and Ricky’s singing. But it was also one of
the most above-board establishments in Roppongi.
For the most part, it treated its girls well. There were places, it was said, where girls had their passports taken off them, where their pay was docked for putting on weight, where cocaine and methamphetamine were relentlessly pushed as surefire ways of
staying slim.
In the same building as Casablanca was Seventh Heaven, Tokyo’s largest strip club (‘with over 30 gorgeous exotic dancers, the majority from America’), but that was something else altogether. Stripping was not expected of Lucie and Louise.
Clothes were important, not bare flesh - a flash of cleavage or leg maybe, but not much more. Casablanca had its own dress code expressed in uncertain English: ‘Skirts should either be a miniskirt or a long skirt. Shoes should cover the ankle and have heels with a minimum height of three centimetres or higher.
‘T-shirts, pants, cardigans, sweaters and sandals are prohibited. Violations will lead to a disallowable of work for that day (hint: party dresses are OK). If you have questions, ask a member of the staff or an experienced hostess.’
The nightly ritual was as follows: as clients arrived, girls in the Doggy Box would say ‘irashimas’ [‘welcome’] and smile. Once a customer was seated, Tetsuo Nishi or, if he was too drunk (which was quite often), Tahara, the head waiter, would lead a girl over to him and introduce her.
Her first task was to make a small bow and smilingly exchange meishii, business cards. That little sliver of Japanese protocol was as important in a hostess bar as it was in a corporate boardroom.
One girl who worked with Lucie at Casablanca explained: ‘What you needed most of all was energy. The whole business was totally, mind-numbingly exhausting. You had to take something - drink or drugs - just to keep you going.
‘Alcohol was the easiest, and your tolerance grew the longer you were in Tokyo. I thought nothing of doing ten or 12 tequila shots before going out to dinner.’
Keeping the drink moving was vital. Behind the bar were bottles of Scotch belonging to regular customers. When one of them arrived, a waiter would bring his bottle to the table and the hostesses would attempt to pour it all, so he would have to buy another.
Some girls would go shot for shot with a customer. Unsurprisingly, they found it hard to stay sober.
There were no ‘members’ at Casablanca. Customers came and went as their fancies changed. There were single guys and married guys, rich and not so rich, reasonable-looking and ugly.
But who were they? The businesscard ritual told its own story. A Casablanca hostess kept her collection in a wallet, a time capsule of her Roppongi nights.
There was a retired senior officer with the Self Defence Force (the Japanese army) who was now head of a large company, lots of investment bankers, some advertising guys, oil exploration executives, a brace of Mitsubishi salarymen.
Plus some Westerners - a Californian wind-farm promoter and the owner of a Donegal wool mill on a sales mission (the Japanese liked tweed).
Often, there would be gaggles of men, noisy parties out on a settai (company outing) flushed with corporate solidarity.
But a keen hostess wasn’t interested in a group. She needed to find the single customer with big money to spend - the one who would keep coming back for more.
He would become the special target; she would sit next to him and do everything she could to enthral. A sempai (older mentor) would show her just how to do it: ‘You say: “Nomimono yoroshii desu ka?” [Would you like to buy me a drink?] If he already has a bottle you take ice like this, pour whisky like this, then water, stir together . . .
‘You dance when asked, light his cigarettes and swap the ashtray as soon as one cigarette has been put out in it. You make sure there are always four cubes of ice in a customer’s mizuwari [whisky and water] and wipe off any condensation from the glass.
‘If the customer needs the toilet, show him where it is and wait for him with an oshiburi [warm towel] outside. Bow when he takes it.’
If a customer saw a girl he liked sitting at another table, he could ask for her. It was called shimei - ‘choosing’ or ‘request’ - and he had to pay more for the privilege.
There was an internal hierarchy at the club, with a number one girl who made the most money and various pretenders to the crown.
The top girl had regular customers asking for her by name. She would get money for each request and a percentage of the takings for that table.
She might ask other girls to join her in a little circle of giggling, simulated infatuation. They played her charming younger sisters. The top girl got an extra monthly cash bonus and her assistants would get a lesser slice of the cake, but at least they were out of the Doggy Box.
Keeping the conversation rolling and acting genki was what mattered. In an email to her sister, Sophie, at home, Lucie confided that she was earning the equivalent of £1,500 a week: ‘I can’t believe I am paid so much just to pretend I am listening to them.’
Much of the time, the conversation was staggeringly banal. Some customers liked to talk about golf, others droned on about work.
Some men got down to the sukebei (dirty) stuff immediately: ‘How many times have you had sex?’ ‘Your breasts are like melons.’ They would also make crude remarks about the prostitutes they’d had sex with. As the boozing wore on, hands sometimes began to wander. But physical contact - if it happened at all - was transitory.
As a girl from Casablanca explained: ‘Kissing was frowned upon in the club, as other customers might want to “request” you. Request was more money for you and more money for the club. So no kissing and it was wise never physically to look attached.’
Casablanca hostesses worked six days a week. But they could also be working outside the club if they had a dohan (literally ‘going with’) - a date in which they went to dinner or to play golf, perhaps, acting as a customer’s fantasy girlfriend.
This was the money-shot, the centre of the whole hostess business. After two dohans with a man he was ‘her’ customer, and then each time he came to the club, the hostess received a cut of whatever was spent at his table.
The clubs demanded at least four dohans a month and paid a bonus for more than 12. Some had mandatory competitions for the girls to get the most customers - and posted scores in the dressing rooms just to heighten the tension. The whole system was designed to incentivise by humiliation.
Almost six weeks after Lucie arrived in Tokyo, the dohan wall chart at Casablanca placed her about 11th out of 20 girls. She had thought she was tough, but her fragile confidence was taking a pounding.
She wrote in her diary: ‘I’ve had one dohan. Another stood me up. I mean, how s*** must you be for a dohan to stand you up? Louise gets men falling over themselves to request her (she’s just falling so well into it) making heaps of friends and as usual, wherever I am, I feel alone . . .’
But there was one guy who did seem interested in Lucie. He came alone and spoke English. He said he was a company director, some sort of property developer.
He had a house in the Tokyo suburbs, a big place with a garden, plus an apartment downtown and one out by the sea. He had a boat.
Lucie’s thoughts are easy to imagine. This one was too good to lose. She’d better keep this one to herself. Perhaps even from Louise. He was offering all sorts of stuff, if she’d just come to his fabulous apartment out by the coast.
It was a risk, but one worth taking. It would bounce her right up the dohan charts. How could she say no?
July 1 was a Saturday. Lucie had found herself a proper boyfriend - a U.S. marine called Scott Fraser. She and Louise were having a rare night off from Casablanca, and planned instead to meet Scott for the evening.
But first, Lucie said something vague to Louise about an arrangement she had made with a customer. Shortly after midday, she put on a black dress and silver necklace and packed a smart handbag. She was dressed as though she was going on a dohan. She’d be back in plenty of time for their night out, she told Louise.
Three times that afternoon, she rang, just to keep in touch. Then, at 7.17pm, she called again, saying: ‘I’ll be back in half an hour.’
Lucie phoned Scott a few minutes later with the same message. They were all going out together that night. To Roppongi. It was going to be fantastic.
But she never showed up. Something had gone terribly wrong .. .
■ Extracted from Tokyo Hostess: Inside The Shocking World Of Tokyo Nightclub Hostessing by Clare Campbell, to be published by Sphere on August 20 at £14.99. © 2009 Clare Campbell. To order a copy p&p free, call 0845 155 0720.
Last updated at 8:13 AM on 04th August 2009
Seeking money and excitement, Lucie Blackman left her home in Kent in May 2000 to find work in Tokyo as a nightclub hostess.
In the second part of an authoritative and groundbreaking book charting the life and death of the 21-year-old, we explain how she was instructed in the art of targeting wealthy customers. She was soon earning £1,500 a week - but other girls made more.
When one customer suggested Lucie boost her earnings by going to his apartment for a drink, she agreed, thinking it would be safe.
In fact, it would turn out to be the biggest mistake of her life...
Lucie Blackman and her best friend Louise Phillips stepped off the Virgin Atlantic flight from London at Tokyo’s Narita Airport on May 4, 2000. As former air stewardesses, they navigated their entry into this new world with the confidence of seasoned travellers.
They were tourists here to see the sights of fabulous Japan. Of course they were. The immigration inspector looked dispassionately at them before wearily stamping each passport. They were in.
Telling lies had been part of the crazy plan from the moment Louise had first thought of it.
There had been no discounted flight tickets courtesy of their former employer, British Airways - despite what Lucie had told her father. There was no ‘aunt’ of Louise’s to provide them with accommodation and nor would they be working legally, as they’d also assured Lucie’s dad.
Both of them were on tourist visas, like every other would-be gaijin (Western) bar hostess. They found somewhere to rent pretty quickly, a hostel sandwiched between the headquarters of the Japanese Communist Party Central Committee and an electricity substation. The price - 30,000 yen (£190) a month for a six-tatami room (six rush mats’ worth of floor space, about ten square metres). There were no carpets or soft furnishings, just a futon to sleep on and communal kitchen and bathroom. Even for seen-it-all Lucie, it was a shock. Pay all this money and what do you get?
They’d need a mobile phone, of course, but decided to rent one to share between them. Tokyo prices were jawdropping and Lucie’s credit card was already maxed out.
She needed money, and quickly, but that really was not going to be a problem.
Everything Lucie had ever heard or read about Tokyo seemed to be true. The city was vast, teeming, a megalopolis of 40 million. The way people held themselves was different; their body language as they swooped and manoeuvred like huge flocks of starlings. Wherever you went there was the crowd. An intense, crackling energy drove the city day and night.
Once they had settled in at the hostel, Lucie and Louise headed for Roppongi. Lucie knew all about it, or thought she did - Tokyo’s glittering, expensive, shiny entertainment district, the ‘favourite haunt of young Japanese and expats out for a night on the tiles’, as the guidebook blandly described it.
There was more to it than that, though. Roppongi was a legend among BA cabin crew. A place for hard-partiers, not backpackers, it had for decades been caught in that weird cultural hinterland of America-worship with a uniquely Japanese twist.
Roppongi was where Japanese men went to be entertained by gaijin girls and where Japanese women, who dressed up like schoolgirls tottering on stack heels, went to find gaijin boyfriends (it was a much commented-on phenomenon that nerdy gaijin men could date stunning Japanese girls. Being a foreigner of any sort in Japan was like being famous).
For a 21-year-old blonde from Sevenoaks who spoke no Japanese, finding work in Roppongi was not going to be a problem. The weekly freesheet for gaijin, Tokyo Classified, was full of ads: ‘Fun, exciting Club J F in Roppongi,’ wanted ‘genki (lively) girls who can entertain and like to enjoy themselves. Y2500 (£16) an hour plus tips. Call. We’re waiting.’
Club Climax was looking for ‘female dancers, hostesses, scouts, etc. Proper visa required’. That was a problem. So how about ‘Casablanca, now hiring Western hostesses. Very nice and friendly atmosphere Y3000-6000 (£20- £40) per hour plus bonus. Great business clientele’. No mention of visas there - and they were offering good money. Casablanca was the place.
Lucie and Louise glammed up and made their way to the club’s entrance with its tuxedoed doorman. He let them in without a word.
The manager, Tetsuo Nishi, eyed them professionally. These two were cool. He’d encountered their type many times before. Neither had work visas but what did that matter - they’d be gone in three months. Mama-san (the den mother) nodded her assent. They were hired.
The girls had struck lucky with Casablanca. It was one of the most popular (with Japanese men) clubs featuring foreign hostesses.
The place was comparatively small, done up like an over-upholstered living room, with black leather couches and dinky little tables, each just big enough for a bottle of whisky, a bottle of soda water and an ice bucket - with the obligatory karaoke system parked in one corner.
Chloe (not her real name), who was working at the club when Lucie and Louise showed up, remembered it clearly: ‘It was so bizarre, and so funny - that strange room with Ricky, the Filipino entertainer, launching into a desperate chorus of Do The Locomotion, while we sat laughing in the Doggy Box, a low sofa by the bar where we girls sat waiting for the men to pick us.
‘All the management told me when I started there was to “create a party atmosphere”.’
As new arrivals, Lucie and Louise were eyed with a certain suspicion by the other Casablanca girls. ‘New girls always stood out and were very popular with the customers,’ recalled Chloe.
‘I chatted to Louise first, who seemed very relaxed and in charge of herself. Then later she brought Lucie over. She was very different to Louise. She struck me as defensive, but at the same time very competitive.’
Lucie began on the nursery slopes of club work, as a kyaku-hiki (‘customerpuller’),handing out flyers in the streets, snuggling up to every drunk man walking by, trying to get him through the door with the strength of her bubbly personality. She hated it. ‘I feel like a prostitute standing on the corner,’ she told Louise.
After a few days, she was pulled inside by the mama-san to begin work properly as a hostess. Was she going to have a hostess name? Some girls called themselves things like ‘Passion’ or ‘Flame’. She’d stick with Lucie.
It would be printed on a business card with her personal mobile number (she’d certainly have to get one of those) and email address. Customers expected that.
There were plenty of dos and don’ts to learn. Girls were to be in their seats in
the Doggy Box by 7.30pm. When beckoned to a table with customers, hostesses were not allowed ‘private conversation’; indeed, chatting in any language besides Japanese or English was forbidden.
Make a mistake, break something, turn up late, and they would be fined. Habitual leg-crossing (considered especially vulgar) could mean being fired. Casablanca was tacky, with its sozzled manager and Ricky’s singing. But it was also one of
the most above-board establishments in Roppongi.
For the most part, it treated its girls well. There were places, it was said, where girls had their passports taken off them, where their pay was docked for putting on weight, where cocaine and methamphetamine were relentlessly pushed as surefire ways of
staying slim.
In the same building as Casablanca was Seventh Heaven, Tokyo’s largest strip club (‘with over 30 gorgeous exotic dancers, the majority from America’), but that was something else altogether. Stripping was not expected of Lucie and Louise.
Clothes were important, not bare flesh - a flash of cleavage or leg maybe, but not much more. Casablanca had its own dress code expressed in uncertain English: ‘Skirts should either be a miniskirt or a long skirt. Shoes should cover the ankle and have heels with a minimum height of three centimetres or higher.
‘T-shirts, pants, cardigans, sweaters and sandals are prohibited. Violations will lead to a disallowable of work for that day (hint: party dresses are OK). If you have questions, ask a member of the staff or an experienced hostess.’
The nightly ritual was as follows: as clients arrived, girls in the Doggy Box would say ‘irashimas’ [‘welcome’] and smile. Once a customer was seated, Tetsuo Nishi or, if he was too drunk (which was quite often), Tahara, the head waiter, would lead a girl over to him and introduce her.
Her first task was to make a small bow and smilingly exchange meishii, business cards. That little sliver of Japanese protocol was as important in a hostess bar as it was in a corporate boardroom.
One girl who worked with Lucie at Casablanca explained: ‘What you needed most of all was energy. The whole business was totally, mind-numbingly exhausting. You had to take something - drink or drugs - just to keep you going.
‘Alcohol was the easiest, and your tolerance grew the longer you were in Tokyo. I thought nothing of doing ten or 12 tequila shots before going out to dinner.’
Keeping the drink moving was vital. Behind the bar were bottles of Scotch belonging to regular customers. When one of them arrived, a waiter would bring his bottle to the table and the hostesses would attempt to pour it all, so he would have to buy another.
Some girls would go shot for shot with a customer. Unsurprisingly, they found it hard to stay sober.
There were no ‘members’ at Casablanca. Customers came and went as their fancies changed. There were single guys and married guys, rich and not so rich, reasonable-looking and ugly.
But who were they? The businesscard ritual told its own story. A Casablanca hostess kept her collection in a wallet, a time capsule of her Roppongi nights.
There was a retired senior officer with the Self Defence Force (the Japanese army) who was now head of a large company, lots of investment bankers, some advertising guys, oil exploration executives, a brace of Mitsubishi salarymen.
Plus some Westerners - a Californian wind-farm promoter and the owner of a Donegal wool mill on a sales mission (the Japanese liked tweed).
Often, there would be gaggles of men, noisy parties out on a settai (company outing) flushed with corporate solidarity.
But a keen hostess wasn’t interested in a group. She needed to find the single customer with big money to spend - the one who would keep coming back for more.
He would become the special target; she would sit next to him and do everything she could to enthral. A sempai (older mentor) would show her just how to do it: ‘You say: “Nomimono yoroshii desu ka?” [Would you like to buy me a drink?] If he already has a bottle you take ice like this, pour whisky like this, then water, stir together . . .
‘You dance when asked, light his cigarettes and swap the ashtray as soon as one cigarette has been put out in it. You make sure there are always four cubes of ice in a customer’s mizuwari [whisky and water] and wipe off any condensation from the glass.
‘If the customer needs the toilet, show him where it is and wait for him with an oshiburi [warm towel] outside. Bow when he takes it.’
If a customer saw a girl he liked sitting at another table, he could ask for her. It was called shimei - ‘choosing’ or ‘request’ - and he had to pay more for the privilege.
There was an internal hierarchy at the club, with a number one girl who made the most money and various pretenders to the crown.
The top girl had regular customers asking for her by name. She would get money for each request and a percentage of the takings for that table.
She might ask other girls to join her in a little circle of giggling, simulated infatuation. They played her charming younger sisters. The top girl got an extra monthly cash bonus and her assistants would get a lesser slice of the cake, but at least they were out of the Doggy Box.
Keeping the conversation rolling and acting genki was what mattered. In an email to her sister, Sophie, at home, Lucie confided that she was earning the equivalent of £1,500 a week: ‘I can’t believe I am paid so much just to pretend I am listening to them.’
Much of the time, the conversation was staggeringly banal. Some customers liked to talk about golf, others droned on about work.
Some men got down to the sukebei (dirty) stuff immediately: ‘How many times have you had sex?’ ‘Your breasts are like melons.’ They would also make crude remarks about the prostitutes they’d had sex with. As the boozing wore on, hands sometimes began to wander. But physical contact - if it happened at all - was transitory.
As a girl from Casablanca explained: ‘Kissing was frowned upon in the club, as other customers might want to “request” you. Request was more money for you and more money for the club. So no kissing and it was wise never physically to look attached.’
Casablanca hostesses worked six days a week. But they could also be working outside the club if they had a dohan (literally ‘going with’) - a date in which they went to dinner or to play golf, perhaps, acting as a customer’s fantasy girlfriend.
This was the money-shot, the centre of the whole hostess business. After two dohans with a man he was ‘her’ customer, and then each time he came to the club, the hostess received a cut of whatever was spent at his table.
The clubs demanded at least four dohans a month and paid a bonus for more than 12. Some had mandatory competitions for the girls to get the most customers - and posted scores in the dressing rooms just to heighten the tension. The whole system was designed to incentivise by humiliation.
Almost six weeks after Lucie arrived in Tokyo, the dohan wall chart at Casablanca placed her about 11th out of 20 girls. She had thought she was tough, but her fragile confidence was taking a pounding.
She wrote in her diary: ‘I’ve had one dohan. Another stood me up. I mean, how s*** must you be for a dohan to stand you up? Louise gets men falling over themselves to request her (she’s just falling so well into it) making heaps of friends and as usual, wherever I am, I feel alone . . .’
But there was one guy who did seem interested in Lucie. He came alone and spoke English. He said he was a company director, some sort of property developer.
He had a house in the Tokyo suburbs, a big place with a garden, plus an apartment downtown and one out by the sea. He had a boat.
Lucie’s thoughts are easy to imagine. This one was too good to lose. She’d better keep this one to herself. Perhaps even from Louise. He was offering all sorts of stuff, if she’d just come to his fabulous apartment out by the coast.
It was a risk, but one worth taking. It would bounce her right up the dohan charts. How could she say no?
July 1 was a Saturday. Lucie had found herself a proper boyfriend - a U.S. marine called Scott Fraser. She and Louise were having a rare night off from Casablanca, and planned instead to meet Scott for the evening.
But first, Lucie said something vague to Louise about an arrangement she had made with a customer. Shortly after midday, she put on a black dress and silver necklace and packed a smart handbag. She was dressed as though she was going on a dohan. She’d be back in plenty of time for their night out, she told Louise.
Three times that afternoon, she rang, just to keep in touch. Then, at 7.17pm, she called again, saying: ‘I’ll be back in half an hour.’
Lucie phoned Scott a few minutes later with the same message. They were all going out together that night. To Roppongi. It was going to be fantastic.
But she never showed up. Something had gone terribly wrong .. .
■ Extracted from Tokyo Hostess: Inside The Shocking World Of Tokyo Nightclub Hostessing by Clare Campbell, to be published by Sphere on August 20 at £14.99. © 2009 Clare Campbell. To order a copy p&p free, call 0845 155 0720.
Flush before you fly: Japanese airline asks passengers to 'empty bladders' before take-off
By Sarah Gordon
Last updated at 11:41 AM on 06th October 2009
A Japanese airline has embraced a controversial new method of reducing aircraft weight - by asking passengers to spend a penny before boarding.
All Nippon Airways has announced that 'loo monitors' will be positioned by the boarding gates in terminals to ask waiting passengers to use the toilets before entering the aircraft.
The airline believes that empty bladders will equal lighter passengers and therefore, a reduction in carbon emissions.
In fact, it believes the weight saved could lead to a five-tonne reduction in carbon emissions over the course of a month, according to Japan’s NHK television station.
All Nippon Airways brought in the controversial policy on October 1 as a month-long experiment.
However, it may expand the trial if it is successful and well-received by passengers.
TravelMail put the money-saving idea to Ryanair, an airline renowned for its cost-cutting measures.
'We have actually been looking at removing two of the toilets on board in favour of one coin-operated cubicle, and encouraging people to use the toilets in the terminal before boarding,' explains spokesman Stephen McNamara .
Controversial new aircraft design puts passengers face-to-face in rows
Crocodile attacks tourist answering 'call of nature' in Cancun, Mexico
One in ten people unhappy with the standards of hygiene in British hotels
'So perhaps the airline got the "go before you go" idea from us. Our idea to will allow us to ultimately put more seats on each plane and charge a lower fare.'
The unusual bid to reduce weight on board is the latest in a long list of cost-cutting measures used by different airlines.
As well as coin-operated toilets, Ryanair is removing check-in desks and has discussed the idea of offering standing room on flights.
Australia's budget carrier Jetstar is also asking passengers to print out their own luggage tags.
Last updated at 11:41 AM on 06th October 2009
A Japanese airline has embraced a controversial new method of reducing aircraft weight - by asking passengers to spend a penny before boarding.
All Nippon Airways has announced that 'loo monitors' will be positioned by the boarding gates in terminals to ask waiting passengers to use the toilets before entering the aircraft.
The airline believes that empty bladders will equal lighter passengers and therefore, a reduction in carbon emissions.
In fact, it believes the weight saved could lead to a five-tonne reduction in carbon emissions over the course of a month, according to Japan’s NHK television station.
All Nippon Airways brought in the controversial policy on October 1 as a month-long experiment.
However, it may expand the trial if it is successful and well-received by passengers.
TravelMail put the money-saving idea to Ryanair, an airline renowned for its cost-cutting measures.
'We have actually been looking at removing two of the toilets on board in favour of one coin-operated cubicle, and encouraging people to use the toilets in the terminal before boarding,' explains spokesman Stephen McNamara .
Controversial new aircraft design puts passengers face-to-face in rows
Crocodile attacks tourist answering 'call of nature' in Cancun, Mexico
One in ten people unhappy with the standards of hygiene in British hotels
'So perhaps the airline got the "go before you go" idea from us. Our idea to will allow us to ultimately put more seats on each plane and charge a lower fare.'
The unusual bid to reduce weight on board is the latest in a long list of cost-cutting measures used by different airlines.
As well as coin-operated toilets, Ryanair is removing check-in desks and has discussed the idea of offering standing room on flights.
Australia's budget carrier Jetstar is also asking passengers to print out their own luggage tags.
Scant welcome for refugees in Japan
By Abigail Mawdsley
BBC News, Tokyo
In a cramped apartment in Tokyo, volunteers are teaching Burmese asylum seekers how to make clothes combining Japanese fashion with their own traditional embroidery.
They hope the project will give women like Lu [not her real name] a way to make ends meet.
It has been three years since Lu fled Burma, leaving her husband and children behind. She claimed asylum on arrival in Tokyo and was sent straight to an immigration detention centre where she spent almost a year.
Two years on she is still waiting for a final decision on her status. Every day is a struggle to get by. Like many people claiming asylum in Japan, she is denied government financial aid but also banned from getting a job.
"I'm not allowed to work, but if I don't work I can't live. I get no financial assistance, I'm supporting myself."
When asked about her experience in Japan, she is visibly upset.
"I love my country but I couldn't stay there," she says.
"When I came here, I believed that because Japan is a democracy they would welcome me, because I'm a refugee. But it hasn't. I'm really afraid for my future. I feel very sad."
REFUGEES WORLDWIDE
USA: 16,742
France: 11,441
Germany: 7,853
UK: 7,079
Australia: 1,854
Japan: 417
Number of people granted refugee status or some other form of protection in 2008 (UNHCR)
Japan is one of the largest single donors providing financial aid and assistance to refugees overseas.
But critics say that is in stark contrast to the reception given to asylum seekers at home.
Last year the world's second-largest economy granted refugee status to just 57 people - a tiny number compared to most other wealthy countries. But it is still an almost four-fold increase on 10 years ago.
Another 360 people were given special residence permits on humanitarian grounds, but with fewer rights and benefits than fully recognised refugees.
'Unwelcoming'
Part of the reason the number of recognitions is low is that is the number of people applying for refugee status in Japan has also been relatively low.
Japan is comparatively hard to get to and presents a linguistic challenge to many asylum seekers.
The flow of people has tended to be outwards rather than inwards and governments have traditionally adopted tight border controls, fearing immigration could harm social cohesion.
Human rights groups like the Japan Association for Refugees (Jar) say the system is unwelcoming.
They say communication problems, lack of appropriate legal advice and the lack of an independent appeals procedure have led to a high rate of refusals in the past and deterred some people from even applying.
Incidents like the high-profile deportation of two UN-recognised Kurdish refugees in 2005 have also made it seem like a poor option to some.
"Japan wants to be seen as a humanitarian giant," says Hiroaka Ishii, the acting head of Jar. "To do so it must look at how it treats people inside as well as outside of the country."
"I feel that we need a more generous attitude," he says.
Financial hardship
Those who do apply for refugee status often find themselves in a similar situation to Lu - with no access to financial support but no legal right to work.
Asylum seekers in Japan do not qualify for general public assistance or health insurance, although a small amount of money is made available through the foreign ministry to those considered the most needy.
Even for the few who qualify, it is less money than Japanese people on welfare receive and is only available for four months, though this can be extended.
Campaign groups say many asylum seekers are left facing extreme financial hardship.
And they say that this hardship is getting worse because the number of people seeking asylum is growing while the funds for assistance and the number of people processing claims are not keeping up.
"Since 2006, the number of asylum seekers coming to Japan rapidly increased," says Mr Ishii.
"That has caused many problems, both in terms of financial support but also the length of time people have to wait for their applications to be decided. Many people are really suffering."
There is currently nothing in Japanese law that guarantees even a minimum safety net to asylum seekers, he says. Jar and other campaign groups are calling for this to change.
Asked to comment, the foreign ministry told the BBC it "would continue to consider taking the necessary measures to protect applicants… by carefully examining the situation surrounding refugee applications."
'Progress'
Johan Cels, the UN refugee agency's representative to Japan, agrees on the need for people awaiting a decision on their status to have access to basic assistance.
But he says it is also important to recognise that positive changes have been made.
"Last year saw the highest figures ever [for granting of refugee status or permission to stay on humanitarian grounds] and it's a development," he says.
Changes to the law in 2004 relaxed policy in some areas, such as getting rid of a 60-day limit to apply for refugee status after entering the country.
And he says an agreement for a pilot resettlement programme for Burmese refugees beginning next year is a milestone, despite only involving 30 people a year.
Looking forward, he is cautiously optimistic.
"The new government has made quite a number of references to the refugee issue not only here in Japan but worldwide. We hope it will translate into concrete actions."
Mr Ishii also hopes the new Democratic Party of Japan-led government will take a fresh look at asylum policy.
"Among the parliament members from the governing party coalition there are many people who have shown concern about refugee issues," he says.
"Now they have moved from opposition to the ruling party, of course we are expecting some improvements will come."
But for people like Lu, they cannot come soon enough.
Published: 2009/11/18 06:40:22 GMT
© BBC MMIX
BBC News, Tokyo
In a cramped apartment in Tokyo, volunteers are teaching Burmese asylum seekers how to make clothes combining Japanese fashion with their own traditional embroidery.
They hope the project will give women like Lu [not her real name] a way to make ends meet.
It has been three years since Lu fled Burma, leaving her husband and children behind. She claimed asylum on arrival in Tokyo and was sent straight to an immigration detention centre where she spent almost a year.
Two years on she is still waiting for a final decision on her status. Every day is a struggle to get by. Like many people claiming asylum in Japan, she is denied government financial aid but also banned from getting a job.
"I'm not allowed to work, but if I don't work I can't live. I get no financial assistance, I'm supporting myself."
When asked about her experience in Japan, she is visibly upset.
"I love my country but I couldn't stay there," she says.
"When I came here, I believed that because Japan is a democracy they would welcome me, because I'm a refugee. But it hasn't. I'm really afraid for my future. I feel very sad."
REFUGEES WORLDWIDE
USA: 16,742
France: 11,441
Germany: 7,853
UK: 7,079
Australia: 1,854
Japan: 417
Number of people granted refugee status or some other form of protection in 2008 (UNHCR)
Japan is one of the largest single donors providing financial aid and assistance to refugees overseas.
But critics say that is in stark contrast to the reception given to asylum seekers at home.
Last year the world's second-largest economy granted refugee status to just 57 people - a tiny number compared to most other wealthy countries. But it is still an almost four-fold increase on 10 years ago.
Another 360 people were given special residence permits on humanitarian grounds, but with fewer rights and benefits than fully recognised refugees.
'Unwelcoming'
Part of the reason the number of recognitions is low is that is the number of people applying for refugee status in Japan has also been relatively low.
Japan is comparatively hard to get to and presents a linguistic challenge to many asylum seekers.
The flow of people has tended to be outwards rather than inwards and governments have traditionally adopted tight border controls, fearing immigration could harm social cohesion.
Human rights groups like the Japan Association for Refugees (Jar) say the system is unwelcoming.
They say communication problems, lack of appropriate legal advice and the lack of an independent appeals procedure have led to a high rate of refusals in the past and deterred some people from even applying.
Incidents like the high-profile deportation of two UN-recognised Kurdish refugees in 2005 have also made it seem like a poor option to some.
"Japan wants to be seen as a humanitarian giant," says Hiroaka Ishii, the acting head of Jar. "To do so it must look at how it treats people inside as well as outside of the country."
"I feel that we need a more generous attitude," he says.
Financial hardship
Those who do apply for refugee status often find themselves in a similar situation to Lu - with no access to financial support but no legal right to work.
Asylum seekers in Japan do not qualify for general public assistance or health insurance, although a small amount of money is made available through the foreign ministry to those considered the most needy.
Even for the few who qualify, it is less money than Japanese people on welfare receive and is only available for four months, though this can be extended.
Campaign groups say many asylum seekers are left facing extreme financial hardship.
And they say that this hardship is getting worse because the number of people seeking asylum is growing while the funds for assistance and the number of people processing claims are not keeping up.
"Since 2006, the number of asylum seekers coming to Japan rapidly increased," says Mr Ishii.
"That has caused many problems, both in terms of financial support but also the length of time people have to wait for their applications to be decided. Many people are really suffering."
There is currently nothing in Japanese law that guarantees even a minimum safety net to asylum seekers, he says. Jar and other campaign groups are calling for this to change.
Asked to comment, the foreign ministry told the BBC it "would continue to consider taking the necessary measures to protect applicants… by carefully examining the situation surrounding refugee applications."
'Progress'
Johan Cels, the UN refugee agency's representative to Japan, agrees on the need for people awaiting a decision on their status to have access to basic assistance.
But he says it is also important to recognise that positive changes have been made.
"Last year saw the highest figures ever [for granting of refugee status or permission to stay on humanitarian grounds] and it's a development," he says.
Changes to the law in 2004 relaxed policy in some areas, such as getting rid of a 60-day limit to apply for refugee status after entering the country.
And he says an agreement for a pilot resettlement programme for Burmese refugees beginning next year is a milestone, despite only involving 30 people a year.
Looking forward, he is cautiously optimistic.
"The new government has made quite a number of references to the refugee issue not only here in Japan but worldwide. We hope it will translate into concrete actions."
Mr Ishii also hopes the new Democratic Party of Japan-led government will take a fresh look at asylum policy.
"Among the parliament members from the governing party coalition there are many people who have shown concern about refugee issues," he says.
"Now they have moved from opposition to the ruling party, of course we are expecting some improvements will come."
But for people like Lu, they cannot come soon enough.
Published: 2009/11/18 06:40:22 GMT
© BBC MMIX
Vitamin cafes: Japan's latest health injection
Story Highlights
* Intravenous vitamin boosts are the latest health fad in Japan
* Vitamin injections target specific health aliments and beauty concerns
* Nutritionists warn of vitamin overdose from high quantities of supplements
* Vitamin injections are popular among celebrities and businessmen for fatigue
(CNN) -- In trendy neighborhoods of Tokyo customers are lining up for vitamin injections that promise to improve health and beauty.
These intravenous vitamin "drips" are part of the latest quick-fix, health fad catching on in Japan: the IV cafe.
Each drip pack contains saline solution and specific vitamins and minerals to target a particular health ailment or beauty concern.
"I used to take vitamin supplements, but changed to the IV drip because I feel the effects more quickly," a 20-something woman at the Tenteki 10 Café told CNN. She said she receives specific injections to get better skin, burn fat and boost her energy.
There are 10 different varieties to choose from at Tenteki. The "orange" variety touts anti-aging properties, loaded with antioxidants. The "placenta pack" is said to help rejuvenate and ease muscle stiffness.
Prices range from $20-$30 per injection, and nurses see about 30-40 people each day. Their most common patients are Japanese businessmen who work in the same office building.
"I see a lot of businessmen who say they don't have time to sleep. They can't take a break from working and get the vitamin drip for an extra kick of energy," a Tenteki nurse told CNN.
"Blue" is the most requested vitamin pack among these men: a concoction of B1 and vitamin E that claims to offer relief from exhaustion.
Registered nurses and doctors administer the drips at Tenteki, but there's no conclusive medical evidence to back up the health claims.
Many nutritionists actually caution against using injectable vitamin supplements because the quantities are not regulated.
"More is not necessarily better...some vitamins and minerals can be toxic in high doses," particularly the fat-soluble ones which the body stores like Vitamins A, D, E and K, explained Claire Williamson, Nutrition Scientist at the British Nutrition Foundation.
In Europe and the United States vitamin shots are popular among celebrities with hectic lifestyles and little time to sleep, particularly vitamin B 12.
Former Spice Girl Geri Halliwell and singer Robbie Williams have both confirmed they've used the shots as part of their diets to maintain stamina during tours.
Dermatological injections of Vitamin C are also popular among women hoping to keep their skin looking young. Former supermodel Cindy Crawford has admitted using such injections to keep her skin firm and wrinkle-free.
According to Williamson, it does not matter if supplements are injected into the vein or into the skin. "At the end of the day it will go into the blood stream," she said.
Most of these nutrients we can get sufficient from foods, nutrients tend to be better absorbed by the body if they are consumed in foods."
* Intravenous vitamin boosts are the latest health fad in Japan
* Vitamin injections target specific health aliments and beauty concerns
* Nutritionists warn of vitamin overdose from high quantities of supplements
* Vitamin injections are popular among celebrities and businessmen for fatigue
(CNN) -- In trendy neighborhoods of Tokyo customers are lining up for vitamin injections that promise to improve health and beauty.
These intravenous vitamin "drips" are part of the latest quick-fix, health fad catching on in Japan: the IV cafe.
Each drip pack contains saline solution and specific vitamins and minerals to target a particular health ailment or beauty concern.
"I used to take vitamin supplements, but changed to the IV drip because I feel the effects more quickly," a 20-something woman at the Tenteki 10 Café told CNN. She said she receives specific injections to get better skin, burn fat and boost her energy.
There are 10 different varieties to choose from at Tenteki. The "orange" variety touts anti-aging properties, loaded with antioxidants. The "placenta pack" is said to help rejuvenate and ease muscle stiffness.
Prices range from $20-$30 per injection, and nurses see about 30-40 people each day. Their most common patients are Japanese businessmen who work in the same office building.
"I see a lot of businessmen who say they don't have time to sleep. They can't take a break from working and get the vitamin drip for an extra kick of energy," a Tenteki nurse told CNN.
"Blue" is the most requested vitamin pack among these men: a concoction of B1 and vitamin E that claims to offer relief from exhaustion.
Registered nurses and doctors administer the drips at Tenteki, but there's no conclusive medical evidence to back up the health claims.
Many nutritionists actually caution against using injectable vitamin supplements because the quantities are not regulated.
"More is not necessarily better...some vitamins and minerals can be toxic in high doses," particularly the fat-soluble ones which the body stores like Vitamins A, D, E and K, explained Claire Williamson, Nutrition Scientist at the British Nutrition Foundation.
In Europe and the United States vitamin shots are popular among celebrities with hectic lifestyles and little time to sleep, particularly vitamin B 12.
Former Spice Girl Geri Halliwell and singer Robbie Williams have both confirmed they've used the shots as part of their diets to maintain stamina during tours.
Dermatological injections of Vitamin C are also popular among women hoping to keep their skin looking young. Former supermodel Cindy Crawford has admitted using such injections to keep her skin firm and wrinkle-free.
According to Williamson, it does not matter if supplements are injected into the vein or into the skin. "At the end of the day it will go into the blood stream," she said.
Most of these nutrients we can get sufficient from foods, nutrients tend to be better absorbed by the body if they are consumed in foods."
Fewer Korean Residents Seek Japanese Citizenship
englishnews@chosun.com / Nov. 19, 2009 10:33 KST
Four out of five Koreans in Japan have no desire to become naturalized Japanese citizens, a straw poll suggests. The Korea University Center for Japanese Studies on Wednesday released a survey of 502 Korean residents in Japan.
The last survey of the kind was when the Korean Residents Union in Japan or Mindan surveyed around 1,300 people in 2000.
In the new poll, 21.7 percent of respondents said they wished to become naturalized Japanese citizens, much the same as the 24.9 percent who said so in the Mindan survey in 2000 but down significantly from 37 percent in a 1995 survey conducted by the Korean Embassy.
The most common reason respondents gave for wanting to keep their Korean passport was a sense of national identity, with 42.6 percent, followed by a lack of practical need for Japanese citizenship with 36.4 percent of them. According to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade, around 62,000 North Koreans and around 486,000 South Koreans have settled in Japan with permanent residency status as of July 2009. Another estimated 30,000 Korean residents did not choose either North or South Korean citizenship when the peninsula was divided.
Japanese Justice Ministry statistics show around 10,000 Koreans became naturalized between 2003 and 2009. "More and more North Korean and undecided citizenship holders became naturalized Japanese citizens but a decreasing number of South Koreans made the move," said Chung Chang-won, who directed the latest survey by the Korea University Center for Japanese Studies. "This is due to North Korea's notoriety as an impoverished country, while South Korea's international status has risen."
According to Mindan, the number of Koreans in Japan with undecided citizenship decreased from around 100,000 in 2000 to around 30,000 in 2009.
The survey shows a rise in the number of Koreans in Japan who used their Korean names instead of Japanese ones. In the 2000 survey by Mindan, only 13.4 percent of Korean residents said they used their Korean names only or most of the time. But in the latest survey, 25.4 percent said they used only their Korean names. "Following the easing of travel restrictions in 1988, many new Koreans moved to Japan, and this has had an influence," Chung said.
Kwon Ik-ho of Chung-Ang University, said, "It appears that the development of the Korean economy and the popularity of Korean culture and movies in Japan strengthened the pride felt among Korean residents there."
Four out of five Koreans in Japan have no desire to become naturalized Japanese citizens, a straw poll suggests. The Korea University Center for Japanese Studies on Wednesday released a survey of 502 Korean residents in Japan.
The last survey of the kind was when the Korean Residents Union in Japan or Mindan surveyed around 1,300 people in 2000.
In the new poll, 21.7 percent of respondents said they wished to become naturalized Japanese citizens, much the same as the 24.9 percent who said so in the Mindan survey in 2000 but down significantly from 37 percent in a 1995 survey conducted by the Korean Embassy.
The most common reason respondents gave for wanting to keep their Korean passport was a sense of national identity, with 42.6 percent, followed by a lack of practical need for Japanese citizenship with 36.4 percent of them. According to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade, around 62,000 North Koreans and around 486,000 South Koreans have settled in Japan with permanent residency status as of July 2009. Another estimated 30,000 Korean residents did not choose either North or South Korean citizenship when the peninsula was divided.
Japanese Justice Ministry statistics show around 10,000 Koreans became naturalized between 2003 and 2009. "More and more North Korean and undecided citizenship holders became naturalized Japanese citizens but a decreasing number of South Koreans made the move," said Chung Chang-won, who directed the latest survey by the Korea University Center for Japanese Studies. "This is due to North Korea's notoriety as an impoverished country, while South Korea's international status has risen."
According to Mindan, the number of Koreans in Japan with undecided citizenship decreased from around 100,000 in 2000 to around 30,000 in 2009.
The survey shows a rise in the number of Koreans in Japan who used their Korean names instead of Japanese ones. In the 2000 survey by Mindan, only 13.4 percent of Korean residents said they used their Korean names only or most of the time. But in the latest survey, 25.4 percent said they used only their Korean names. "Following the easing of travel restrictions in 1988, many new Koreans moved to Japan, and this has had an influence," Chung said.
Kwon Ik-ho of Chung-Ang University, said, "It appears that the development of the Korean economy and the popularity of Korean culture and movies in Japan strengthened the pride felt among Korean residents there."
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