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When I helped Mahdi move to his new apartment, I was intrigued by several gallons of kerosene stacked near the front door; by that and by a dancing pole in the middle of the living room. It turns out that his new room mates are fire dancers.

Lodging is getting hard to find in Honolulu and Mahdi ended up living with perfect strangers. Little did he expect that he would be greeted by people twirling flaming staffs in his own backyard.

Aside from setting stuff ablaze just for relaxing in the middle a of an otherwise perfectly standard compliant party, the Honolulu fire performers gather every Tuesdays in the amphitheater in Kaka'ako park near Ala Moana. There, they stack metal cannisters of white gas and sooty sticks while awaiting the sun set.

They start early because parks close at 22h in Honolulu. As soon as the velvet curtains of dusk embrace the amphitheater, tribal rhythms fill the air and wicks are doused in fuel. The thirty or so attendants will take their turn on the stage for a ballet with the flames.

I attended the July 31 event. "We use white gas," Tamara, a belly dancer from California, informs me. "It burns hot and bright. Kerosene is cheaper but not as bright. Ultra pure lamp oil is colder, it's good for fire breathing but it's too expensive for just spinning." She is spending a few days in Hawaii, hopping from an island to the other, buying her passage with massages. She even brings her massage table with her. She started fire dancing at a Moon Circle gathering in 2004; someone had just put a fiery staff in hand and said "here, spin it." It was only a few weeks after the Burning Man, where she developed a fascination for fire performers. She now masters several different props: staff, double staff, three section staff, poi, fire whip, and fire fans that she welded together herself.

Pois are chains with weighted wicks at the end. Most people build their own props. "We use Kevlar for the wicks," Judy tells me. "The staff is regular wood wrapped with aluminum tape." She started spinning when someone gave her a flaming staff and told her to spin it. "I knew how to spin a stick, I was a majorette. I was just too chicken to do it with a flaming one."

Most people have very similar stories; somehow, they ended up with a burning prop in their hands and they loved it. They dance mostly in friendly meetings, like in the amphitheater. "It's hard to get booked around here," says Judy, "they only want traditional Polynesian fire performer." Some have more luck, like Tamara who is back from New York where she performed in a fully choreographed show.

The flames danced with the night for some time then came the curfew. The police was waiting near the park for them to leave. They don't mind people playing with gallons of gasoline, but for some reason, being in a park at night is considered harmful.