Like many countries that rely on tourism, Greece is often presented one-dimensionally to appeal to holidaymakers. Calm, crystal clear waters. Fresh seafood. People dancing sirtaki on cobblestone. Ease. Comfort. The reality of Greece is that it’s multi-dimensional and its rich culture always seems to be found in unassuming places. Finding it is simply a trial by fire.
Anastenaria, or Nestinarstvo in Bulgarian, is a yearly ritual held in May, performed in a small number of villages, where participants dance ecstatically over small stretches of fire. It is a sight to behold and a euphoric experience for the dancers and spectators alike. Anastenaria is not only a testament to the importance of maintaining cultural heritage but also the importance of cultural exchange. The value of breaking down the barriers and gates to worlds and lives other than your own are innumerable and profound.
It is believed that in the village of Kosti, located along the Black Sea, a fire broke out and engulfed the church of Saint Constantine and Helen in flames. The village inhabitants feared that the fire would destroy the icons (sacred works of art that are highly significant to Orthodox Christianity), so people began to run in and collect them. None of the icons or people who ran into the burning church were harmed and so the tradition began to honour the divine nature of the event. Anastenaria has also been theorised to be a modern interpretation of Dionysian rituals but, nonetheless, it can be agreed no matter when this ritual truly originated, it’s connected to an incredibly rich history. Also incredible is the fact that it has endured so long in spite of the world’s tendency to forget.
The unfolding of the ritual resembles the fire of the church. In the villages where Anastenaria takes place, the participants dance and sing around the fire. The dancing is not choreographed, rather, participants simply move and allow the rhythm to guide their steps. While this is happening, they hold images of Saint Constantine and Helen, embodying those who ran into the church to recover the icons. The dancing over the flames is quick and euphoric.
Interestingly, the participants in this ritual are mostly descended from Pontic refugees,an ethnically Greek indigenous people from the Black Sea region, who arrived in Northern Greece in 1923 following the compulsory Greek-Turkish population exchange. The trauma of displacement from the only place many had known would seem to be the perfect storm for forgetting one’s culture and heritage. However, Anastenaria only grew in its power, now in the context of overcoming the tribulations of being a refugee.
The tradition brought over by refugees has only contributed to the rich cultural diversity of Greece and Bulgaria and its divine reputation has actually been a way for cultures to come together and appreciate the ways their heritage diverge and intersect. It transcends geographical boundaries and recognises how now-divided regions once had shared cultures, whether it be in one way or one-hundred ways. It is not dissimilar to the experience of walking around campus and seeing all different groups of people. You may talk to or ignore them, you may agree with them or not. However, it is still to your benefit to recognise that they are there, diversifying campus life.
What makes this tradition and traditions like it special is that it is not commodified or exploited, and even though it originally comes from a specific group of people, it isn’t exclusive. Anastenaria has maintained not only the magnificence of firewalking but the simplicity of the event as something that is not intended as a money-making venture. Too often culture is turned into a consumer product that ironically is accessible to the masses yet isolates the consumer from true culture, creating an individualistic experience rather than a shared one. For example, a person can go to a chain Greek restaurant and get gyros made in a robotic assembly line, but it doesn’t compare to the shared experience of cooking and eating with family and friends, coming together to share an experience that doesn’t need to be marketable or seemingly authentic. It just is. Anastenaria relies on shared experience to thrive. Its origins are based on the experiences of a community and the act is performed in the company of others.
On the other hand, sometimes gatekeeping culture can prevent it being exploited. At times, it is necessary to preserve its importance and tradition. For example, tobacco holds a very important spiritual place in the lives of some Indigenous American communities. However, it has become an overly exploited commodity that is almost entirely removed from its meaning. Although, Anastenaria is still connected to its custodians. It is encouraged for others to spectate, though this is done through respect and an attention to its origins and significance. In this case, without Anastenaria being recognised by people outside of its cultural origins, it would risk being lost or separated from its significance and repackaged as something completely different.
Protecting a culture doesn’t necessarily mean keeping it hidden from ‘outsiders’. Protecting a culture is the opposite. The more people who can experience and appreciate it, the more custodians it has to keep it alive, to keep the flame burning.
