“JAPANESE prostitutes in Penang? Are you serious? Can we go over and have a look?” I exclaim in surprise before making my request to my friend and renowned Penang historian Dr Chua Hock Khoon who had just informed me about the existence of an ancient Japanese cemetery in the vicinity during our meanderings at the Lorong Kulit flea market.
We decide to continue our chat on the subject matter at a nearby roti canai stall as neither of us had had our breakfast yet. While waiting for our food to be served, Chua continues to share with me about his latest research project.
“Japanese prostitution in Penang started during the early 1880s, tapered off in the 1920s and finally ended just before the outbreak of the Second World War in 1941. This integral part of our social history is seldom heard off due to the taboo attached to it. But for me, I feel that this interesting segment of our nation’s past needs to be told as it is binds the complex social and economic forces in Malaya, China and Japan,” says Chua, his voice filled with excitement.
Sensing my lack of knowledge regarding the matter, the dentist who runs a clinic in Lebuh Pantai begins by offering me some background information. The lack of occupational choices, says Chua, forced young girls hailing from extremely impoverished fishing and farming villages in southern Japan to emigrate abroad in search of greener pastures. “These women, like all other men and women migrant labourers, became known as karayuki-san. Interestingly, it was only after the Second World War that this general term was used to specifically describe Japanese women who went abroad to work as prostitutes.”
These women didn’t only go to China and Siberia and countries in Southeast Asia, including Penang in the south but they also went to India and Africa. Their families had no choice but to let them go as the Tokugawa regime at that time required peasants to hand over as much as 50 per cent of their annual harvests. Taxes paid in kind were also imposed on other life necessities like houses, cloth, sake, beans and, most importantly, on female children. Debts increased in tandem with abortion rates and female infanticide!
I listen in horror as my friend continues that female children were considered expendable during those times of extreme hardship. Many baby girls owed their lives to parents who raised them primarily as a source of future revenue when sold as domestic servants to wealthy families or other benefactors who made a tidy profit by shipping them abroad to work as prostitutes.
These women were transported primarily on coal ships plying the route between Nagasaki and Shanghai. Sea captains and sailors received bribes from middlemen to take the girls on board as stowaways. After that, the karayuki-san were brought to brothels in Hong Kong to work for several months. During that period, they were required to take up English. Finally, the young women were transported southwards to thriving colonial port towns in Malaya and Singapore.
“They were sold to local brothel owners as soon as they landed here. The price for an attractive young woman could be as much as 2,000 yen (about 500 Straits dollars at that time),” explains Chua before telling me that the small Japanese community in Penang at that time preferred to use the Japanese currency while dealing among themselves.
“Four ringgit and fifty sen,” the waitress declares, placing our food on the table with a flourish. Both Chua and I take advantage of the interruption to quickly grab a couple of bites of our gravy soaked roti canai. Slightly satiated, Chua resumes his story.
ROARING BUSINESS
Brothels along Penang’s Lebuh Cintra were sanctioned by the colonial government to cater to the sexual desires of the large community of migrant bachelor labourers in the rapidly growing colony. The flood of Chinese coolies or sin kheks arriving to work in Penang had created a great gender imbalance and the demand for prostitutes increased exponentially. By the end of the 19th century, the once fledgling prostitution business had transformed into a multi-million dollar enterprise.
“Did you know that the areas near Lebuh Cintra were once referred to as Little Japan?” poses Chua before adding: “The area was called Little Japan as small Japanese businesses began to make their appearance around Kampung Malabar, Lebuh Campbell and Lebuh Kimberley soon after the establishment of the brothels. The kimono salesmen, pharmacists, photographers, laundrymen and restaurateurs catered to the needs of the karayuki-san as well as a small portion of the local community.”
My friend’s comments immediately reminds me of my visit to the antique shops along Lebuh Chulia earlier this year. I remember going through several turn of the century photographs produced by Japanese photo studios hailing from around the Little Japan area. My heart skips a beat when I begin to relate their connection to the Japanese prostitutes.
Historical records show that there were at least 100 Japanese prostitutes in Penang during the turn of the 20th century. These young women, dressed in their brightly-coloured kimonos or yukata and hair arranged in the pompadour style with large ribbons attached, would either stand on the five foot way or sit on wicker chairs placed under blazing red gas lanterns strung all over Lebuh Cintra. It’s said that this was the scene that gave rise to the term ‘red light district’ when referring to places associated with the flesh trade.
The loitering karayuki-san, who often plied their trade until the wee hours of the morning, made no secret of their desire to please. They used every trick in the book to entice passing coolies, lonely merchants and wandering sailors to step into their establishments. Popular prostitutes not only earned fixed salaries from their brothel owners but also received additional cash and the occasional jewellery from their admirers. To these women of the night, Penang was their Shinkinzan — the new gold mine.
“Despite being sold at a young age, the unselfish karayuki-san showed great filial piety by sending their hard earned savings back to Japan to support the hungry mouths at home. The arrival of the much needed cash at the village often became the final nudge to convince reluctant parents to also send their daughters abroad to work,” explains Chua.
By 1906, there were over 300,000 Japanese working overseas and more than 10 per cent of them were karayuki-san. The number of Japanese prostitutes in Penang reached its zenith about a decade later. By that time, even Japanese tea-houses, bars, restaurants and hotels had several karayuki-san for hire.
SLOW DEMISE
The Japanese prostitute population began to fall dramatically in 1921 as a result of an Imperial decree which abolished prostitution abroad. The Japanese Consul sought the assistance of the British officials in the repatriating the karayuki-san from Malaya and this had a ruinous impact on the brothel owners as well as the other supporting businesses. Even the banks suffered as a large percentage of their savings depositors and money order clients were people who worked in the brothels. Chua adds that the small portion of the karayuki-san in Penang deliberately went into hiding as they had made up their minds not to return.
Many prostitutes who participated in the repatriation programme were faced with a major dilemma the moment they reached home. Apart from not knowing what to do with their lives, these women, who’d earned millions of yen for their country and had sacrificed so much to help usher in their country’s modern century, experienced severe discrimination from among their own people.
They became victims of the worst sort of village gossip. It was heart wrenching for many of them. In the end, most of these women who were so proud to be Japanese, felt let down by their own country.
While spooning the last bits of food from his plate, Chua draws comparisons on the fate of those former karayuki-san who’d opted to stay put in Penang. “Those who evaded repatriation either began operating as private prostitutes or found work as waitresses in cafes and restaurants all over George Town. The prettier ones led relatively more comfortable lives after becoming mistresses of former clients. As a result, many scholars believe that the karayuki-san who chose to stay on in Malaya were much better off than their compatriots who returned to Japan.”
Our breakfast over, Chua suggests that I come with him to take a look at the Japanese cemetery. A short drive later and we arrive at our destination in Lintang P. Ramlee. Unfortunately, the gates to the cemetery, which was established in 1893, is locked and we could only look in from the outside.
By rough estimate, there are no less than 60 tombstones and all of them, according to Chua, predate the Second World War. “Most of these graves belong to the karayuki-san. There are similar Japanese cemeteries like this in Ipoh, Sandakan and Singapore,” he shares.
Standing by the cemetery entrance and partially shaded by a large tree growing just beside it, Chua concludes his story. “The karayuki-san and other Japanese nationals didn’t remain long in Penang. Many of them started leaving when anti-Japanese sentiments among the local Chinese population intensified as a result of the Japanese military aggression in China during the 1930s. Then, just before the onset of the Second World War, the few remaining members of the once thriving Japanese karayuki-san community in Penang left.”
I turn to gaze upon the simple granite tombstones. To me, they serve as grim reminders of a unique portion of Penang’s rich cultural history. I quickly make a mental note to make a visit to Lebuh Cintra before leaving for home later in the day. Hopefully, I’ll be able to find things that date back to the time when the karayuki-san once walked the streets of Penang.