Experience: Rice Planting Festival

Amongst the myriad of ancient festivals which bind together the people, beliefs and the land is the annual Otashibunosho Otaue Matsuri. Surrounded in all directions by breathtakingly glorious mountains, and with plenty of food stalls jam-packed with deliciousness including Oita's signature karaage, this is an event that the whole family can enjoy.

This festival is very welcoming to foreigners, and so your humble writers were able to experience the old-timey normal-wear for rice-planting farmers, which was an experience in itself. For females, this consists of a red wrap-skirt for the bottom layer, the design of which allows for ease of movement - vital in the rice fields, as we were to find out - over which was a light yukata-type garment, the design of which could be chosen by the wearer for the extra-personal touch. Then the belts began. I felt like a very secure, surprisingly comfortable and colourful present by the time we were done with the tying of strings. It is custom to wear a hat, which I recently found out is actually called a rice hat (go figure), but because it was threatening to rain we also adorned a straw cape-type garment which together with the hat were surprisingly effective at keeping you warm and dry. Plus I looked a bit like a lion which is always a win in my book.

Once we looked the part, we headed to The Place To Be - the rice field! There, there was a fascinating and elaborate ceremony which involved individuals dressed in white chanting and moving very controlled-ly. While I didn't quite understand what was happening, it was a fascinating thing to be able to look in upon from one culture to another. Then we had some messages from a number of figure-heads of the area, before getting shown the optimal way of planting the rice.

That was the cue for the 'bull' to enter the rice field. The bull was two people in a bull costume, but the little ones still laughed and screamed and cheered all the same as if there was a real bull paving the way for their little feet. It was refreshing to see the magic imagination of children being used to open the minds of adults in something as massive as a cultural festival like this, because soon after the children, the grown-ups started cheering and whooping just like their little ones.

Afterwards, the little ones took the first brave steps into the unknown, mucky waters of the rice field. They looked in their element, as children often do when they're exploring in mud. The fact that their parents were encouraging them to get their clothes dirty seemed to really delight them. And I have to say, the grown-ups weren't much better. For us, it was a battle to all keep upright, but with teamwork and a lot of laughter, we made it to our own planting-spots.

The planting itself was very rhythmic and I thought quite relaxing, although as soon as I got home that evening I slept like a baby so perhaps it was just the company and phenomenal setting that made it a relaxing experience. In the rice field, the mountains looked positively otherworldly, and the recent rainfall contributed to the magic aesthetic, and being there with friends, planting rice, dressed in traditional wear was a very surreal and beautiful thing, and I would recommend it to anyone with even the slightest glimmer of interest.

The very rice field