Sex And Race In Okinawa

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Nightlife, like military service, was segregated back then. One area in Koza was designated for blacks and another for whites. Today, while the party spots are still split by race--whites head toward bars, blacks congregate in hip-hop clubs--it's a mixed bunch that piles into the "loser cruisers," military-run buses for the poor sods stationed on remote camps that take them to bars on base like the Globe & Anchor. But the guys playing arcade games and pool are white; the ones on the dance floor are black.

The girls are here too, signed in at base checkpoints by their friends and boyfriends. They're a tough bunch. Around 2 a.m. one recent night, a fight breaks out between three amejo and an American woman. A slap fest ensues before massive security guards in yellow T shirts toss the Japanese women out. The fight, of course, is over men. American men are thought to be kinder, more expressive and more romantic than Japanese men. "Really, I can't remember the last time I went out with a Japanese guy," says Yoko Taniguchi, 30, an accountant with newly braided cornrows and tight FUBU capris. She is dancing at a club called Slum. "American men--they make much better boyfriends." Some women fall in love. A few desire marriage and a life abroad. For others, it's just about sex. "It's just asobi [play]," says one kokujo. Another blames Japanese men. "They don't know how to talk, they don't know how to ask you out, and they certainly don't know what to do in bed," she says. "American guys--black guys--do."

Back at the American Village a month after the incident, a matsuri is in full swing. But across the street, in front of a billboard for the movie Pearl Harbor, is a group from the local Ryukyu University. The students wave banners and shout hoarsely into bullhorns: "We oppose American bases on Okinawa! We oppose President Bush! We oppose violence to women! We will not rest till the bases go!"

At dusk outside the gates of Kadena Air Force Base, neon signs flicker on as servicemen begin to congregate, poking around in the clothing stores, buying yakitori on sticks from street vendors and horsing around. Some of the men later make their way to the dance clubs, others to the billiard bars. As midnight approaches, carloads of women pull into the parking lots nearby. They fix their lipstick in the rearview mirrors and tease out their hair as if according to some military instruction manual. It's as if they're going into battle.