MATSUSHIMA, Japan - Organizers of a centuries-old Shinto ritual in the scenic coastal town of Matsushima are turning to international students to help carry its "mikoshi" portable shrine, as Japan's aging population leaves fewer locals to sustain the tradition.
Every April, residents of the northeastern town near Sendai hoist the massive mikoshi, which weighs over one ton, onto wooden beams and carry it for eight kilometers along the coastline.
The ritual is linked to the Date clan -- powerful feudal lords who ruled the area during the Sengoku period in the 15th-16th centuries at a time when it was particularly prosperous. Passed down through generations, the ritual is a living connection to history and community for many in Matsushima.
In recent years, however, fewer young people have been available to participate. The Great East Japan Earthquake and tsunami 15 years ago reshaped the town's population, and younger generations continue to move away, leaving fewer hands to carry the mikoshi.
Masaaki Matsutani, head of the parishioner youth association that organizes the ritual, said the shortage of participants had become a serious concern.
"We faced concerns like, 'How many more years will we be able to see this sight?'" he said. "We tried and failed, trying various things. And we decided that, precisely because we live in an age of diversity, we needed the courage to break out of the shell of tradition and move forward."
Faced with this challenge, the association in 2025 made an unusual decision: they turned to international students studying at Tohoku University. The idea was unprecedented, and some locals questioned whether outsiders could take part in a deeply rooted Shinto ritual.
Thirty students accepted the invitation. Among them was 21-year-old Anna Zaiane, born in France to a Japanese mother and German father. She had long been fascinated by Japanese culture and studied the differences between Japan's legal system and France's at the university.
"When I saw the email, I immediately wanted to participate," said Zaiane. "But I also prepared myself mentally. I wondered if it was really okay for us foreigners to take part" in a ritual preserved by the local people for generations.
On the day of the ritual, her expectations were exceeded. She did not carry the main shrine itself but helped carry a smaller children's mikoshi that accompanied the procession.
Her tasks included scattering purifying salt and banging a drum and gong. The intensity of the procession -- the chants, the weight of the shrine, and the energy of the town -- engaged all her senses.
Residents came out of their homes along the route, offering food from their porches: dumplings, pudding, miso soup, and seafood. "I wondered if it was really okay to receive so much," said Zaiane. "It felt like the entire town was united."
The ritual's significance, she realized, went beyond celebration. Matsushima, a town hit by the 2011 tsunami, had preserved many of its cultural landmarks, including Zuiganji Temple.
Zaiane was amazed to learn that small islands in Matsushima Bay in front of the temple and rows of cedar trees at the entrance had had helped stop the tsunami and prevent damage to the main hall, a national treasure.
"It made me realize how meaningful these rituals are in a country prone to natural disasters," she said.
At the end of the procession, participants climbed steep steps leading to the shrine, where cherry blossoms were in full bloom.
Speaking at a post-ritual gathering, Zaiane admitted that the students had initially worried they might be a nuisance. "But I'm really happy that we were accepted," she said. Residents cheered, calling out, "Come again! We'll be waiting for you!"
The experience left a lasting impression. In a world where debates over immigration and the treatment of foreigners are increasingly heated, Zaiane said, she was encouraged by the warmth and openness of the small-town residents
"Honestly, I thought small towns might be conservative and closed-off," she said. "But it was completely different. The people were incredibly kind and welcoming."
A week later, she returned to Matsushima after being invited by residents to witness another ritual. She was shown hidden spots that only locals knew, offering a panoramic view of Matsushima Bay.
Reflecting on her experience, she said it had changed how she thought about tradition. "Traditions survive not by closing themselves off," she said. "They survive through relationships with people. Opening doors to people from outside Japan may not always be easy, but it can help preserve culture."
For Matsutani, involving international students had not been simple. Some locals were concerned that breaking with tradition might disrespect the ritual. He said he had many sleepless nights worrying if the decision was right.
Seeing the students and locals carry the mikoshi together brought him both relief and pride. "I'm glad we did it," he said. "I want to see this again next year, and the year after that."
Across Japan, where population decline threatens many festivals and rituals, Matsushima's experiment offers a possible solution: blending long-standing traditions with openness to outsiders. For the town and its visitors, the ritual became not just a ceremony, but a bridge across generations and cultures.
