Showing posts with label International marriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label International marriage. Show all posts

Thursday, September 30, 2010

12 are indicted in marriage-fraud case; total rises to 35

Wednesday, Sep. 29, 2010
By Laura Butler - lbutler@herald-leader.com
Lexington Herald-Leader (Kentucky, USA)


A federal grand jury indicted 12 more people from Kentucky, Indiana and Tennessee in conjunction with a marriage fraud ring, according to a press release issued Wednesday from U.S. Attorney David J. Hale's office based in the Western District of Kentucky.

A total of 35 people have now been indicted in the case.

Kong Cheng Ty, 43, of Danville, and Sokbay Lim, 45, of Dover, were included in the new list of indictments. The suspects were charged with conspiracy to commit marriage fraud, and many were also charged with marriage fraud and visa fraud.

Investigators believe seven people are organizing the fraud, the release said.

The government says those indicted Wednesday are "engaged in a conspiracy to obtain lawful permanent residence in the United States for Cambodian nationals by way of fraudulent marriages and engagements."

The release said the American citizens were offered all-expenses-paid trips to Cambodia, and that the trips included airfare, lodging, food, drinks, entertainment and sexual acts from Cambodian prostitutes. The acts allegedly took place between Jan. 1, 1999 and April 7, 2010.

Sharon Lee Spalding, 44, of Lexington, Justin Michael Martin, 25, and Donald McKinley Martin, 27, both of Georgetown, and Chok Chan, 49, of Mount Sterling were among those indicted previously; they have since pleaded guilty.

More than 15 marriages and attempted marriages were recorded.

Should they be convicted, the accused could face up to 75 years in prison, a $2.75 million fine and supervised release for up to 33 years.

Dates and locations for arraignment have not yet been determined.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Neighbor speaks out about the alleged marriage fraud ring-leader


April 14, 2010
By Claudia Coffey

LOUISVILLE (WHAS11) – The marriage fraud plot in which 23 local people were indicted on federal charges includes a sergeant at the Kentucky State Reformatory.

On Wednesday, the neighbor of one of the individuals told WHAS11 News she’s known for years about some of the unusual activity going on at one of the ring-leaders homes in Oldham County. She says that what she saw outside her home raised a red flag almost 10 years ago.

WHAS11’s Claudia Coffey has more on this story.

In Oldham County, Sherry Haley knew there was trouble next door, but couldn’t pin-point what it was.

“It’s just been very suspicious for years,” she says.

On Wednesday, she had answers.

Haley’s neighbor, 57-year-old Vuthea Niev, who she knew as “T,” stands accused of being the ringleader in a massive fraud ring that the feds say arranged fake marriages between U.S. citizens and people from Cambodia.

Haley described “T” as friendly. He'd always wave and smile, but she says activities at the house were bizarre. One time she saw several women bathing outside with a garden hose.

“The flag went up as soon as the Asian women started bathing outside by the patio,” she says. “I stood there like this. They looked over and looked away. I just stood there shaking my head, thinking you can’t do this.”

She says they were completely naked.

Haley adds that there was a constant flow of women. Some looked to be teenagers coming and going from the house.

“There would be weeks at a time when there was no one there,” she says, “then all of sudden a woman or two with another child.”

“T” is one of 23 people indicted in the marriage fraud ring. According to the indictment, the deal worked like this: Americans from the region were recruited and paid up to $10,000 to travel to Cambodia and marry Cambodian nationals. The purpose was to obtain lawful residence in the United States.

While in Cambodia, the Cambodians would wine and dine the Americans, even taking them to brothels.

For Sherry Haley, it's a stunning discovery that what she suspected may be happening next door was far worse than she could have imagined.

“I thought it was drugs or porn,” she says, “but I never dreamed they were doing illegal marriages over here. Never.”

The deal didn't always go as planned, though. In one case, an American women didn't want to go through with the marriage. According to the indictment "T" then threatened to kill her.

According to U.S. Marshalls, the 23 individuals indicted in the marriage fraud plot are still behind bars. They’ll have a detention hearing Thursday at 10 a.m.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Marriage brokers in Vietnam cater to Korean bachelors

Wednesday, February 21, 2007
By Norimitsu Onishi
International Herald Tribune (France)


HANOI: It was midnight here in Hanoi, or already 2 a.m. back in Seoul. But after a five-hour flight on a recent Sunday, Kim Wan Su was driven straight from the airport to the Lucky Star karaoke bar, where 23 young Vietnamese women seeking Korean husbands sat waiting in two dimly lit rooms.

"Do I have to look at them and decide now?" Kim asked, as the marriage brokers gave a brief description of each of the women sitting around a U-shaped sofa.

Thus, Kim, a 39-year-old auto parts worker from a suburb of Seoul, began the mildly chaotic, two-hour process of choosing a spouse. In a day or two, if his five-day marriage tour went according to plan, he would be wed and enjoying his honeymoon at the famed Perfume Pagoda in the Huong Tich Mountain southwest of here.

More and more South Korean men are finding wives outside Korea, where a surplus of bachelors, a shortage of marriageable Korean women and their rising social status have combined to shrink the domestic market for the marriage-minded male. Bachelors in China, India and other Asian nations, where the traditional preference for sons has created a disproportionate number of men now fighting over a smaller pool of women, are also facing the same problem.

But a booming Korean marriage tourism industry is seizing on an increasingly globalized marriage market and sending comparatively affluent Korean bachelors to searching for brides in the poorer corners of China and Southeast and Central Asia. The marriage tours are fueling an the explosive growth in marriages to foreigners in Korea, a country whose ethnic homogeneity lies at the core of its self-identity.

In 2005, marriages to foreigners accounted for 14 percent of all marriages in South Korea, up from 4 percent in 2000.

After an initial setback — his first three choices found various reasons to decline his offer — Kim narrowed his field to a 22-year-old economics major in college and an 18-year-old high school graduate.

"What's your personality like?" Kim asked the college student.

"I'm an extrovert," she said.

The 18-year-old asked why he wanted to marry a Vietnamese woman.

"I have two colleagues who married Vietnamese women," he said, adding, "The women seem devoted and family-oriented."

One Korean broker said the 22-year-old, who seemed bright and assertive, would adapt well to South Korea. Another suggested flipping a coin.

"Well, since I'm quiet, I'll choose the extrovert," Kim said finally, adding quickly, "Is it O.K. if I hold her hand now?"

She came over to sit next to him, though neither dared to hold hands. She spelled out in her name in her left palm: "Vien." Her name was To Thi Vien.

In South Korea, billboards advertising marriages to foreigners dot the countryside, and flyers are scattered on the Seoul subway. Many rural governments, faced with depopulation, subsidize the marriage tours, which typically cost $10,000.

The business began in the late 1990s by matching Korean farmers or the physically disabled to mostly ethnic Koreans in China, according to brokers and the Korea Consumer Protection Board. But by 2003, the majority of customers were urban bachelors and the foreign brides came from a host of countries. The board says between 2,000 and to 3,000 agencies operate now.

The widespread availability of gender-screening technology since the 1980s has resulted in an overabundance of Korean males. What is more, Korea's growing wealth has increased women's educational and employment opportunities, even as it has led to rising divorce rates and plummeting birth rates.

"Nowadays, Korean women have higher standards," said Lee Eun Tae, the owner of Interwedding, an agency that last year matched 400 Korean bachelors with brides from Vietnam, China, the Philippines, Mongolia, Thailand, Cambodia, Uzbekistan and Indonesia. "If a man has only a high school degree, or lives with his mother, or works only at a small- or medium-sized company, or is short or older, or lives in the countryside — he'll find it very difficult to marry in Korea."

Critics say the business demeans and takes advantage of poor women. But brokers say they are merely matching the needs of Korean men and foreign women seeking better lives.

"But this business will get more difficult as those countries get richer," said Won Hyun Jae, the owner of i-Bombit, another agency. "Now, even a disabled Korean man can find a Vietnamese bride. But eventually Vietnamese women will ask why they have to go marry a Korean man when life in Vietnam is good."

For now, Vietnam remains a popular source of brides, second only to China. Marriages with Vietnamese women are considered so successful that at least one rural government, Yeongcheon, in Korea's southeast, subsidizes marriage tours only to Vietnam.

At Incheon International Airport outside Seoul, an increasingly familiar scene unfolds in front of the arrival gates in the mornings. Korean men, holding telltale bouquets and often accompanied by relatives, can be seen greeting their Vietnamese brides as they arrive on overnight flights from Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh City.

It was also at Incheon Airport that a tense-looking Kim and another client began their marriage tours. Three brokers for Interwedding and i-Bombit arrived.

Kim, urged on by an older sister, decided to go to Vietnam after a last-ditch effort to meet a Korean woman in December failed. A high school graduate, he lives with his mother and an older sister, and works on the assembly line of a small manufacturer of car keys. Though he lives in one of the world's most wired societies, Kim does not use the Internet.

The other client was Kim Tae Goo, 51, who farms ginseng and apples on the hectare, or 2.5 acres, of land he owns in Yeongju, a town in Korea's southeast. Kim had recently divorced a Chinese woman he married after the death of his first wife, a Korean woman. He lives with his 16-year-old daughter and his elderly mother; his 21-year-old has left home.

Ahn Jae Won, a Korean broker who has long been based in Hanoi and is himself married to a Vietnamese woman, began: "The women have come out looking their best for you. But don't expect them to look as pretty as Korean women. There is a big gap in our GDP's. Don't be condescending. Don't lie. If you lie, they'll find out eventually and feel betrayed and run away."

"The parents know that their daughters will marry a Korean man. The authorities know this is happening, but there'll be trouble if we do it in front of them. So I seek your understanding. Once we land in Hanoi, even though it'll be very late, we'll go meet the women right away. It's safer to do this at night."

"One last thing. Other companies allow you to sleep with the women on the first night. We don't. Only on the bridal night. We must, after all, keep our decorum as Korean men. Is that O.K. with you?"

The two nodded.

And so, at the Lucky Star karaoke bar here, the older Kim addressed the Vietnamese women, most in their early 20s.

"My 16-year-old daughter lives with me and I'm a farmer," the older Kim said, after informing the women through the brokers that he would also send $100 a month to their parents in Vietnam. "Is that O.K. with you?"

"I know how to farm," said Bui Thi Thuy, 22, one of the two women Kim eventually focused on.

Asked whether she had any questions, Thuy said she had none. But the other woman, an earnest 28-year-old in a light-green jacket, asked: "If I marry you, will you love me and take care of me forever?"

"Of course," Kim answered, then quickly settled on Thuy.

After a few hours' sleep, the new couples and the brokers squeezed into a small van for the four-hour ride to the women's home province, Quang Ninh, about four hours east of Hanoi. There, the couples would be interviewed by the local authorities before registering for their marriage.

The road out of Hanoi, a wide highway flanked by new factories owned by multinationals like Canon, eventually narrowed to two lanes criss-crossed frequently by cows. Farther out, farmers could be seen working the soil by hand, and signs of Vietnam's booming economy grew fewer.

Most of the Vietnamese women marrying Korean men came from the rural areas around Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City.

Both Vien and Thuy had friends who had married Korean men and lived, happily it seemed, in Korea. Like many Vietnamese, they were also avid fans of South Korean television shows and movies, the Korean Wave of pop culture that has swept all of Asia since the late 1990s.

The Korean Wave has transformed South Korea's image in the region, presenting the country as having successfully balanced tradition and modernity, a place that produces coveted Samsung cellphones and cherishes family ties. The week the two women met their new husbands, Vietnamese television was showing in prime time a Korean television series called "Successful Story of A Bright Girl" — the story of a simple country girl who goes to Seoul and captures the heart of a tycoon.

"To be honest, I don't know much about Korea except what I've seen on television," Vien said. "But the Korean landscape is beautiful. Korean men look sophisticated and affectionate. They seem responsible and they live in harmony with their family members and their colleagues."

A soccer fan, able to rattle off the jersey numbers of David Beckham or Zinédine Zidane, she had registered two years earlier with a local broker for marriages with Koreans. With only Vien and an older brother, her parents — her father was a construction worker for a local firm — had sent both to college.

By contrast, Thuy was one of five children of rice farmers. She had registered with the agency soon after graduating from high school.

"A friend of mine married a Korean man and now lives in Seoul," Thuy said. "We talk on the phone sometimes. She's very happy. She says there are so many people and tall buildings in Seoul."

At age 22, she said, half of her peers had already married. As she waited to get married, she helped with household chores, forbidden by her parents to engage in the farm work that might blemish her looks.

The couples registered for their marriages and underwent medical check-ups, running into other Vietnamese-Korean couples along the way. The younger Kim wrote a letter in Korean to his bride — trying to allay the anxieties he saw on her face, promising to protect her in Korea and surmount the inevitable problems — but found no way to relay its meaning. The couples bought Korean and Vietnamese dictionaries, pointing to words or using broken English.

On Tuesday, about 40 hours after landing here, the Korean men married their Vietnamese brides in a double ceremony. The brides' relatives waited at a large restaurant here with expectant looks.

"Today is the union not only of two people, but of two countries," said Vien's father, To Minh Seu, 55. "Vietnam and Korea share many similarities. We are both Confucian societies."

Standing next to her daughter and her new son-in-law, Thuy's mother, Nguyen Thi Nguyet, 56, said, "This is a poor country, but conditions are much better in Korea. I hope my daughter will have a better life there."

But the father, Bui Van Vui, 52, was displeased that his daughter was marrying a man just one year younger than he was. The night before, he had telephoned Ahn to complain about the age gap.

"I'm still very worried because of the age gap," the father said as his son-in- law listened to Ahn's interpretation. "I'm slightly relieved now that I see my son-in-law for the first time. But I can't stop worrying."

"Don't worry, don't worry about a thing," Kim said.

Still, the father looked grim throughout the ceremony.

"Let's tell him about the compensation," Kim told Ahn, referring to the $100 he would send every month.

"Later, later," Ahn said.

As he left the restaurant after the ceremony, the father turned around at the entrance to take a final look at his daughter. He pressed two fingers against his lips in a kiss goodbye.

Later, Thuy said: "I was my father's favorite. He really adores me and is worried."

She, too, was worried. "I know Korea only from television, but it must be very, very different from reality. I don't know whether my new family will like me and I don't know how I'll adapt. I'm overwhelmed with worries."

It came time for the Korean men to return home on Thursday night, with their wives staying behind to complete the paperwork to join them.

At the airport here, Thuy announced she had something to tell her husband and asked Ahn to interpret.

"Please extend my greetings to your mother and children," she said. Kim reached out for a handshake, but the brokers pressed him to give his wife a hug.

"Don't worry about me. I'll study Korean very hard and by the time you see me I'll be good at it. We had only a short time together. But I felt affection between us and started to feel love for you. When you're in Korea, please call me."

"I'll call you in two days," he said.

The two women would leave Hanoi in three months, the same way half a dozen other Vietnamese brides, visas in hand, did on a recent night. The extended families of these brides had come from the countryside to bid them farewell, some still wearing car sickness patches behind their ears for the long drive here.

Many, it seemed, were visiting the airport for the first time. Some kept riding an escalator up and down, their faces showing the thrill of a new experience. Then, with boarding-time beckoning, they clustered in front of a window looking into the immigration office, noses pressed against the glass, and waved at the brides as they were stamped out of Vietnam and went off to catch the red-eye to Korea.

Su-hyun Lee contributed reporting.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

International Marriage: Globalization From the Ground Up

Feb.20,2007

By Kwon Taesun, Editorial Writer
The Hankyoreh (South Korea)

"Mr. Park, whose wife is from Cambodia, said that soon after getting married, he realized that women enjoy more rights in Cambodia than they do in Korea, so he struggles to free himself from his male-centered thinking to better accommodate his wife."
"I hate it that people look at a man who has married a woman from Southeast Asia as having something wrong with him, so I try to avoid telling people that we’re an international couple."

So said 33-year-old Mr. Park when he visited the Women Migrants Human Rights Center last month. You hear complaints like his more than any others if you work with women who have migrated to new countries through international marriage. One Vietnamese woman who married a Taiwanese had to field questions from her relatives asking her why she would marry a man from Taiwan and if there was something wrong with his family, and his relatives would ask her questions like how much money she was sending to her family and whether she was going to "run away like other Vietnamese women."

The problem is that a lot of people see international marriage with women from China or Southeast Asia as the buying and selling of brides or as some sort of social problem. Many women in these marriages are seen as passive victims or gold diggers. Their husbands are seen as bad and abusive, or men who are at the very least fools for being tricked into marriage. These images may seem to contrast with one another at first, but they all end up making the women in these marriages out to be the "inferior Other."

Strictly speaking, however, women in international marriages and even their husbands are people are trying to escape being victims of capitalistic globalization. "People like us have our pride insulted daily, living in Korean society," said a Mr. Sin, referring to his international marriage as viewed by the Korean public. Sin runs a fruit store with his Vietnamese wife. "I hate how people [in our society] aren’t valued, and how everything is judged by money; that’s why I chose international marriage," he said, choosing to go against the grain. In one way, international marriage is an expression of struggle by men and women who have been pushed to the margins of the capitalist system to escape their marginalized lives. There is a body of research that sees those who have joined in international marriages as people who are courageously trying to realize their dreams by escaping society’s political, economic, and cultural oppression and its strict directives.

Indeed, most of the women who migrated to other countries through marriage are intelligent and proactive. The following is from a collection of writings from a Korean language program for foreign woman. It was written by a Filipina woman and in it you see she is aware of the historicity of capitalist globalization.

"Forty years ago, the Philippines was the wealthiest and most powerful nation in Asia. Korea? Where’s that? Aren’t they poor? We Filipinos should send those poor Koreans some money.

"Eight years ago Taiwan was the richest nation on earth. My friend from there said you would have to be crazy to marry a Korean man. Rumor has it that Korean men hit their women.

"Last year my friends in Japan and Taiwan said, ’You’re going to Korea to live with a Korean husband? We’re jealous! Does he have single friends? Send us pictures of actress Lee Young-ae.’"

"Twenty years from now, my daughter is going to say to her Israeli friend, ’Korea and Taiwan were rich when I was young.’ "

International marriage is closely related to capitalist globalization, so will not the answer be found in properly dealing with it the right way? As one Taiwanese academic puts it, international marriage can be a way of spreading globalization "from the ground up" if social movements are able to help these wives and husbands cultivate their own abilities.

You can see how this is happening if you look at the multicultural families in the farming regions that otherwise seem as far behind globalization as can be. "I may not know where the Philippines are," says a woman in Naju who has two Filipino daughters-in-law. "But looking at my daughters-in-law, I see how whether you’re light or dark or from the Philippines or Vietnam, there’s little difference from Koreans." Mr. Park, whose wife is from Cambodia, said that soon after getting married, he realized that women enjoy more rights in Cambodia than they do in Korea, so he struggles to free himself from his male-centered thinking to better accommodate his wife. We’re seeing changes in the way people know and understand each other, and it’s happening from the ground up.