The angry ox lowered its head and snorted.
"Let's run!" shouted Mandy.
"Where?" Vinnie cried.
"What's going on?" a voice said suddenly.
A young boy about Mandy's age appeared.
He spoke softly to the angry ox and patted its neck.
"Well, we . . . ," stuttered Vinnie.
"Did you come to see Budi?
The fastest ox in the village?" the boy asked proudly.
He tied a ribbon around the calm ox's head.
"What's your name?" asked Mandy.
"I'm Wayan, and these are my oxen, Budi and Gede," he replied.
"Who are you?"
The children introduced themselves.
Wayan had black hair and eyes.
He wore a long, layered skirt but no shirt.
"Are you here for the races?"
Wayan asked, tying a ribbon on the other ox.
"Races?" asked Vinnie.
Just then a girl walked up.
She stopped when she saw Vinnie and Mandy.
"Wayan!" she exclaimed. "Here are some flowers."
Mandy introduced herself and Vinnie to the girl.
"I am Wayan's younger sister, Nyoman," she said.
"Why are you decorating the oxen?" asked Vinnie.
The two animals were now decorated with ribbons and flowers.
"So people know who owns them," explained Nyoman.
"And it makes them look handsome."
"What kind of race is it?" asked Mandy.
"It's a race of the fastest oxen," Nyoman said.
"It is a tradition.
Long ago, farmers needed to plant the rice seed quickly.
They needed to plant several crops a year.
So they made their oxen plow faster and faster.
Soon it became a contest."
Nyoman and Wayan's parents walked up.
"Are these your friends?"
their father asked, smiling kindly.
"Yes. Can they come to the race with us?" asked Wayan.
"Of course, but we must hurry," replied his father.
Wayan and his father led the oxen down the road.
Vinnie and Mandy followed with Nyoman and her mother.
"Wow! What is that?"
Mandy pointed to a hill that looked like a tall, grassy staircase.
"Those are rice fields," explained Nyoman.
"They look like giant steps!" Vinnie said.
"The farmers specially shape the land like that," said Nyoman.
"Why?" asked Vinnie.
"It helps them send water evenly to all the fields.
Water is very important to rice fields.
The rice farmers must work together to keep all these fields alive," explained Nyoman.
The children saw narrow streams of water here and there.
Nyoman shook her head at them.
"How can you live in Bali and not know about rice fields or the races?"
"Bali?" cried Mandy.
She turned to Vinnie.
"We're in Indonesia!"