It's Ushibuka, Amakusa's southern coastal town, in April. The warm winds from the south have come and with them the fish.

Fishing season is finally here again. Let's jump into our boats! Start the engines! Smell the salty, whipping winds as we rush into the blue world again! Let's search for the lucky spots! Lower the nets! Feel the weight of the slimy flippers! Pull, pull!

But wait! Not yet!

Haven't we forgotten?

Forgotten what?

In our urgency, haven't we forgotten to welcome those who we look for?

What do you mean?

We must go back. We have forgotten to start from the beginning.

Ushibuka Haiya Festival: A welcome to the fish after a winter's absence; A prayer to the gods for a good harvest; The beginning of each year's fishing season.

The noise is the first thing you notice: the cracking voices of old women-like sustained nasal screams; the instruments-sparse and twangy-both forced a bit too loudly through speakers all over town.

Then you see the kimonos-bright and bold-patterned with turquoise ocean waves or pink and yellow flowers or outlined with black fish, decorating men and women and children. They line the streets, dancing and shouting, "Sa sa yoi yoi! Sa sa yoi yoi!" in rhythm with the loudspeakers. Their dance is the dance of the fishermen preparing their nets, tossing them into the sea, dragging them back in, and rejoicing after a full catch. The dance goes on for hours-same steps, same motions-as does the music-same melody, same rhythm. Only the faces are different, each expression revealing the ones who understand why they are dancing and those who only dance.