Last weekend was really really good. We got to experience the countryside, Japanese culture, and above all people's warmth and generosity.
It all started with our friend Pieternel finding out about a brush festival somewhere 40 minutes outside Hiroshima. We were curious about what a brush festival might have to offer, and decided to tag along. With a phone number to punch into our cars' navigation system, we arrived in this tiny town that must usually be sleepy but was on that day very happening. The occasion: the brush festival! What exactly is a brush festival, you may be wondering? Better shown than explained, so this is it:
But the best part was not the beauty of the festival... it was rather how we got to experience it. Since this town is quite tiny, there isn't much room for festival visitors to park their cars. So we had to park in the outskirts of the town and hop on a bus that was shuttling people into town. The buses were running every couple of minutes, and there was not a single foreign face inside them... so when six gaijin adults and two kids flagged one down and got on it, we were a major attraction to giggling teenagers and wide-eyed grown-ups.
We got off the bus in the middle of town, and it wasn't immediately evident where the festival would be. So we went into a shop that looked like an eclectic mix of museum and restaurant, gathered all the words the eight of us could speak in Japanese, and tried to ask for directions. It is still not clear how, but four or five people came to the rescue, pointed us in the right direction, and after a few yards it was clear that three of them were walking with us. They led us through a shortcut, while using the few words of English the three of them could get together to explain basic facts about the town and the festival.
We walked around, took pictures, ate snacks, shopped for brushes, made small conversation with stall owners using a few sentences of butchered Japanese... and an hour later, when the festival was coming to an end and the stall owners packing up their goods, our generous guides were still pointing out small details and shepherding us through the town. They took us to a wonderful little tea house, where a very sweet old lady in a kimono explained everything there is to know about ceremonial green tea, and sat with us to make sure her concoction would live up to our expectations. Our impromptu guides sat at the next table, giving us space but ready to jump in if we needed any help.
The festival was over and the last bus was leaving soon. While we lingered and chatted with the tea house owner, our guides were getting worried that we would miss the bus and have to walk to the car. They tried to hurry us out, but we were moving slowly, and told them not to worry, that we would be happy to walk back to the parking area. They seemed stressed out, but did not complain.
Fifteen minutes after the bus's scheduled departure, we walked back to the starting point, and there we found the bus, waiting for us! Apparently our guides had taken the matter in their own hands, and while we were lazily strolling back, they somehow managed to hold the bus for us. Once there, they apologized that it was a bit crowded and we might not be able to get a seat, made sure all eight of us were on it, bowed deeply as the door was closing and told us to please come back next year...
So this was the highlight of our brush festival: Three lovely people who invested good part of their afternoon making sure the eight foreigners would have a nice time in their home town!
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