In the westernmost island of the Amakusa archipelago lies the small seaside town of Ushibuka. It is a quaint place, thriving amidst sandy white beaches, greenish blue water and looming monstrosity designed by notorious architect Renzo Piano (of Kansai Airport fame).

Ushibuka lacks the typical noise and congestion of typical Japanese urban sprawl; however, hidden bounties remain buried under the town's tranquil façade. Situated not fifteen minutes away from the Kaichu Kouen natural reserve, the town is surrounded by lush vegetation.

Apart from boasting some of the best beaches and scuba diving spots in Kyushu, Ushibuka oozes bucolic charm – this in spite of the ever-growing concrete structures that continually threaten to flatten the jade-coloured landscape of rural Japan.

Like so many seaside towns, Ushibuka sustains a large part of its industry through the produce of its rapidly depleting shores. Every day new batches of fresh fish and a variety of crustaceans can be seen tossing helplessly at the marketplace before being sliced into succulent cuts of sashimi. Despite its seeming natural riches, however, the town has also been blighted by tragedy.

The disappearance of Ushibuka's most valued sea trophy during the 1970s - the sardine - as well as the great depression that followed are still sorely remembered by the locals as a warning to the evils of reckless over fishing.

A place so accustomed to the fickle sway of the waves could not do without suitable folklore, and this comes in the shape of an annual event to commemorate the town's ocean-bound livelihood. Thus, every year on the third week of April the renowned Haiya festival takes place in the streets of Ushibuka.

Originally a term derived from the local word for "southern wind" (hae), Haiya has become a chant of rowdy celebration since the late Edo period, when the townsfolk gather to call forth the southern winds so they may bring a good fishing season with them. Yet in practice, Haiya is more of an excuse for raucous partying than anything else.

The festival opens with an on-stage dance competition on Friday evening (Kagayake Haiya no Kyouen), giving way to a big street parade the next day. In total over forty groups partake in the revelries regardless of age and sex, boasting colourful festival garbs (happi) and costumes, proudly presenting carefully choreographed routines based on the original Haiya dance (Haiya odori). The movements vary from group to group, but they all tend to emulate fishing activities, such as the tossing and heaving of nets. (I do not remember seeing any, although ironically enough a few men in drag were seen busting some moves in their fishnet tights).

Also, in the shade of Haiya's aquatic lore, beer and sake flow freely for the adults at the end of the circuit, preparing the dancers for an increasingly less coordinated procession after each round.

The Ushibuka City Hall kindly invited people from various countries to join the parade this year, in what surely gave the festival a truly cosmopolitan flavour. Lost in the stupor of fermented barley, I even complied to perform a Broadway-esque "jazz hands" number together with my bopping cavalcade of foreigners – not exactly a traditional choreography, though it did manage to elicit a few confused chuckles from the unsuspecting public.

By the side of the road a small wooden stage houses the musicians and singers that bring aural life to Haiya. Shamisen (four-string Japanese guitar) and wadaiko (drums) provide the sound base to the Ushibuka Haiya song (Ushibuka Haiyasetsu), a high-pitched, nasal tune intended as a prayer for abundance to bring an end to Saama, the six months of scarcity in winter. Quirky and energetic, it is in the lyrics of this song that Ushibuka's traditional cycle of life transpires.

"Let the sake flow even if your pans are empty
the food is coming through waves
the winds might bring you a wife, a white sail or a white heron
we live on Haiya for half a year
in Saama we sleep and live for half a year more".

On Sunday, the parade continues from noon until four in the afternoon. It must be pointed out that the day parade seems even more demanding than its evening counterpart. Certainly dancing under the blazing Ushibuka sun is a tad more uncomfortable than doing so while blanketed by the cool night sky –especially if, like some on that day, one is wearing heavy frilly dresses and stifling kimonos. But such minor details are not allowed to ruin the event, and everyone –among them many elderly people- merrily brave the heat with vigorous dance moves.

I certainly didn't, and thus spent a great deal of time seeking shade in the marketplace under Piano's concrete abomination. The Ushibuka sea-produce fair (suisan feea), which opens on Sunday from 11:00 a.m., features over two thousand cuts of fresh sashimi and other regional products, as well as many stands of generic festival food. Although personally I decided to give the tentacles and endangered sardines a miss, tourists from all over Kyushu use this chance to buy some inexpensive omiyage (souvenirs) and try numerous delicatessens from the Ushibuka coast.

But perhaps this newfound consumerism does not do justice to the spirit of Haiya, which similar to fertility rituals everywhere, from Easter to Bacchanalia, is to finally wake up from a long winter slumber. I, too, thought it best to avoid the mental Saama of city life. And so, as soon as the parade was over, I headed toward the beach with my friends while humming the sticky festival tune in my head.