Firewalking, Ganesh, and Indian Identity

In the last few weeks I’ve watched an eight year old walk on fire and a 15 foot tall clay idol of the Hindu elephant god Ganesh dissolve in the ocean. Firewalking and Ganpati (Ganesh) Utsav are two of the largest Hindu festivals celebrated in Fiji and reveal important facets of Indo-Fijian culture.

Firewalking was observed during the last week of August at South Indian temples throughout Fiji. For the ritual, a group of devotees—of all ages and both sexes—isolate themselves in a temple for 10 days, abstaining from eating meat, having sex, and thinking impure things. They wear yellow shirts and sarongs with red sashes on their waists – all of which denotes their purity. For the devotees, days are packed with worship and meditation to the Hindu goddess Maha Devi (and her manifestations as Durga and the feared Kali) under the direction of a priest.

Walking on fire (actually hot ash) is the culmination of the 10-day ritual. For the final two days (a Saturday and Sunday), I traveled from cosmopolitan Suva to the northern sugar-farming village of Raki Raki. On Saturday evening, there was a prayer session, climaxing with devotees and observers circling the temple three times to gain the blessing of the goddesss and to ward off evil forces. One male devotee "became" the goddess Kali for the circumambulation, donning her black and blue costume and perfecting her movements.

In the evening, a comedic drama was staged to show villagers the story of Maha Devi’s triumph over evil. The drama went from 10 p.m-6 a.m. The following day at 3 p.m., devotees marched to the sea where they asked for a final blessing from the goddess. At the sea, the priest pierced the tongue and cheeks of devotees with trishurs (three-pronged needles that look like miniature pitchforks). Devotees felt no pain after conditioning their bodies and souls for 10 days. In a trance-like state, and to the beat of drums and flutes, they danced from the sea to the temple for the firewalking.

For nearly a day, heaps of wood burned in the strip of land designated for the firewalking. The heat emanating from the ash was easy to feel and see. One by one, the devotees slowly and calmly walked over the ash, dipping their feet briefly in water only at the end. The event ended with the priest lightly whipping devotees and volunteers from the crowd with a long piece of rope. Those who were whipped bowed and touched the priest’s feet to show respect.

The firewalking ritual serves three vital functions to the Indo-Fijian Hindu community. First, it strengthens ties to community. Regardless of class, gender, or other markers, members of the Raki Raki Hindu community unite to observe the events together. The ritual is a status leveler—everyone observes the same rituals in the same way, placing everyone equally under Hinduism’s sacred canopy. This reinforces the spirit of egalitarianism that pervades Hinduism in Fiji, where caste distinctions have disappeared since the period of indenture.
The ritual also reminds the community where it came from. The temple is surrounded by sugarcane and set in an open field. A tractor is firmly placed near the entrance. The temple setting invokes the community’s background in sugarcane farming. Thus, rituals at the temple help bind Raki Raki’s local story with the broader story of Hinduism.

Second, it solidifies familial bonds. Extended families celebrate the rituals as one – together they circumambulate the temple, stay up late to watch the Maha Devi drama, pray for loved ones who walk on fire, and share stories over grog when it’s all over Sunday evening. For Hindu families, experiencing the ritual – with its powerful sights, sounds, and spiritual symbols— year after year creates a profound emotional and sentimental bond.

I personally experienced the centrality of family to the ritual’s significance. When taking pictures of the event, the family I was staying with urged me to go inside the area marked off for the devotees to get better shots. I hesitated, but eventually did go with one member of the family. After the ritual ended, a devotee approached me and told me that only those who had prepared for 10 days were allowed in the area. Members of the family I was with – who also happened to be prominent elders at the temple – scolded the man for being rude to a guest and he backed off his claim. Although in terms of the ritual’s religious correctness this devotee may have been right, he conceded because family considerations trumped his objection.

Third, the ritual strongly links adherents back to India. The priest’s mantras are recited in Tamil; though most adherents only speak and understand Hindi, the Tamil recitations lend an aura of South Indian authenticity to the event. Female observers are dressed in Indian saris, while male observers don Indian cut tops. People play traditional Indian instruments such as the dholak (Indian drum) and shenai (Indian flute) throughout, while others sing Hindu devotional songs in Hindi. The ritual is an eruption of "Indianness." It connects observers and adherents to the generations of Indian families who have completed the ritual in Fiji and India. The zeal with which Fiji Hindus complete the ritual and connect back to their Indian heritage is particularly intriguing since the ritual has died out in India.

GANPATI UTSAV UPDATE COMING SOON!