In Traditionally Insular Japan, A Rare Experiment in Diversity

Problems in schools were just one sign the newcomers weren't going to simply "blend in." Those who lacked health insurance began turning up in local emergency rooms when they got sick. Since many depended on employers for housing, they ended up homeless if they lost their jobs.

Hidehiro Imanaka, director of Hamamatsu's International Affairs Division, shook his head recalling angry citizens who would call city hall to tattle on foreign-born neighbors who didn't sort the garbage properly or parked in the wrong places.

Some newcomers threw all-day barbecues with large crowds and loud music -- just as they had back home. Their Japanese neighbors were horrified. At one point, tensions were so high that some merchants banned certain groups from their stores, until a lawsuit prompted them to stop.

But many immigrants say the struggle is worth it.

Roberto Yamashiro, who came to Japan from Peru when he was 15, said the adjustment was difficult. He didn't know the language and didn't like the food. He worked in a factory that made ice chests for several years. Now 24, he is one of a handful of immigrant students at Hamamatsu University. "I like it here a lot," he said. "There is much more opportunity if you work hard."

Officials in Hamamatsu say they never expected the outsiders to live in Japan for more than a few years. But now they realize they're here to stay and must be helped along.

At city hall, officials have moved the foreign registration desk to a prominent spot on the first floor. Signs and forms are printed in Portuguese, Spanish, Japanese and English. The International Affairs Division, which used to focus on foreign exchange programs, now concentrates on the needs of the immigrant community. In an attempt to quell disputes over garbage, instructions on how to sort it are now available in four languages.

But the broader question of Japan's traditional reluctance to accept outsiders remains.

Eunice Ishikawa, who was born in Brazil, teaches cultural policy and management in the Department of International Culture at Shizuoka University of Art and Culture in Hamamatsu. She said that when people learn where she was born, they can't believe she's a college professor.

For many of the immigrants from South America, "it's almost impossible to assimilate because people have such negative images" of outsiders, she said. Sometimes her husband, a Japanese American who was born in San Diego, complains that people look down on him because they see him as an American.

Ishikawa said the Japanese may have no choice but to learn to live with outsiders, because their numbers are growing, not only in Hamamatsu, but in the country as a whole.

In 1990, about 1 million registered foreign residents lived in Japan; by 2004, that figure had nearly doubled, to just below 2 million. Most say the actual numbers are probably higher because not all foreigners register.

The pressure to let in more immigrants is building. Population experts project that by 2050, Japan's population, about 128 million in 2005, will shrink to 95 million, about 40 percent of whom will be 65 or older. By some estimates, Japan will lose more than 4 million workers.

"With the age of globalization, these borders are going to open up," said Fariborz Ghadar, director of the Center for Global Business Studies at Pennsylvania State University. "Unless they don't want to see their economy grow as rapidly, they're going to have to do something about it."

Recently, the country struck an agreement with the Philippines to bring in qualified nurses and certified care workers. "In the near future, Japan must make a decision to receive immigrants into this country," said Kazuaki Tezuka, professor of labor and social law at the University of Chiba, who has studied immigration policy around the world.

Joao Toshiei Masuko, a Brazilian immigrant of Japanese ancestry who opened the first Brazilian Japanese restaurant in Hamamatsu and then expanded his business to include a bakery and supermarket, predicted that immigrants will be accepted.

As he strolled through the aisle of his shiny new supermarket next to the downtown branch of Japan's Entetsu department store, he noted that his customers are both Japanese and non-Japanese. Pointing to aisles that stock U.S., Peruvian and Brazilian products, he said his market -- decorated in green and yellow, the colors on the Brazilian flag -- has an "international flair" that he's certain will translate in his adopted country.

"I opened my market to sell to Brazilians," he said. "But now everyone comes."