Moving to Ireland as a student was more than just a change in geography for me—it was a profound shift in my cultural and spiritual life. While planning my departure, there was one thing I didn’t plan for, the need to recreate a sense of home in a foreign land. I quickly realized that it wasn’t just about finding my way around a new city or adjusting to the cold weather; it was about holding on to the things that made me feel connected to my roots. For me, that first connection came in the form of a small altar—a simple but powerful symbol of my broader cultural and spiritual identity that goes beyond religious devotion. While the items on my altar have religious significance, the altar itself represents a connection to the rituals and memories that shaped my upbringing. Therefore, an altar can be seen as a cultural anchor that ties me to community and tradition.
As I settled into my new life, I began to notice that this was a shared experience. It mirrored the journeys of countless migrants who, like me, carry pieces of their homeland with them. Whether it’s through religious objects, rituals, or language, these small acts of preservation help us navigate the complexities of belonging in a new country by carrying our identities with us, and sometimes, reshaping them along the way. Embarking on a journey from one's homeland is a philosophical act that extends beyond the physical movement of the body. It involves carrying the intangible weight of memories, values, and a unique subjectivity that defies simple explanation (Gatta 2016).
When I packed my bags to move to Ireland, there was one thing I couldn’t leave behind—a small picture of Lord Krishna that my mother gave me along with incense sticks. For years, I had been observing Ekadashi fasts (eleventh day of lunar cycle), not strictly for religious reasons, but because the practice made me feel better, helping to detoxify my body every fortnight. In Hinduism, ekadashi is associated with Lord Vinshu and in my household we offer prayers to Lord Krishna on these days since he is an incarnation of Vishnu. My mother encouraged me to perform puja in front of a picture of Lord Krishna after taking a shower on every Ekadashi I fasted on, turning this routine into a meaningful ritual. So, to some, this tiny picture might seem like just a trinket, but to me, it was a vital connection to home, to my family and to everything familiar. I learned with time that I am not alone in this. For example, a fellow classmate from Colombia who brought along a photo of her family’s altar told me, “This photo is the first thing I unpack whenever I move. It makes wherever I am feel like home.”
Reading Nathacha Appanah’s Les Rochers de poudre d’Or for one of my classes, I was struck by how the coolies, or indentured labourers, carried their religious artefacts—pictures of gods, rosaries and kumkuma (red turmeric powder) —with them. On a lengthy journey these items are companions to solitude, offering solace, comfort and a sense of safety to the migrant (Hagan 2012, 126). The significance of these religious artefacts is not confined to a static existence. Even during the journey, amidst the ebb and flow of transient spaces, migrants periodically engage with these items. We pause to gaze at them, to pray and to partake in familiar rituals. In these moments, a temporary and mobile altar materializes in the migrant's mind—a sacred space that goes beyond physical boundaries, providing continuity and connection amid the fluidity of movement.
Fig : Altar in my rented room in Delhi right now
Sacralisation of New Space: Bridging Homelands
After my arrival in the new country, one thing that instantly made me feel more settled was finding an altar in the temporary apartment I was sub-renting from a fellow Indian girl. It wasn’t much, just a miniature statue of Lord Ganesha, a modest candle stand, incense sticks and a packet of kumkuma. Moving into a new space is more than just a logistical task; it's a journey of creating connections by weaving the spiritual fabric of the old into the new. In my Kumauni culture from the Indian Himalayas, this journey starts with the tradition of constructing an altar even before physically settling into a new dwelling. The sacralization of new homes, as witnessed in various global cultures, serves as a means for immigrants to manifest transnational bridges to their homelands (Rosenblum and Tichenor 2012, 222). An altar, composed of religious and cultural artefacts, becomes a vessel for recreating the ambiance of the migrant's home in the country of origin. This sacred space goes beyond sheer symbolism, encompassing elements such as photos, statues, candles, lamps, bells, plants, incense sticks, camphor, flowers, sacred water and cherished heirlooms. An altar is a small but powerful universe, a “sacred microcosm” as some scholars describe it (Mazumdar and Mazumdar 2009). Through the recreation of an altar, we assume authorship of a foreign space, imparting upon it the familiar aesthetics etched in our memories. An altar, therefore, becomes an intentional and heartfelt endeavour by the migrant to resurrect a sense of home in a space that is physically distant but spiritually connected.
Performing Identity: The Choreography of Cultural Continuity
The altar at my new place in Ireland didn’t look exactly like the one back home. Instead of the usual oil lamp or diya there was a candle stand, like those you see in European churches. At first, this fusion felt strange to me, but soon I realized it was part of adapting to a new environment. The altar becomes a sacred space, feeling complete and sanctified, even when embellished with sacred objects from other cultures or religions. The desire to reconnect with family, friends and neighbours propels us to gather during festivals and auspicious occasions, finding solace and a renewed sense of belonging in front of the altars. So, we might be lighting candles instead of diyas, but the spirit of the ritual remains the same. The true vitality of these rituals lies in their performance. Altars serve as stages for a “multisensorial spiritual experience” (222). The nostalgic aroma of burning camphor and incense sticks becomes more than a scent; it becomes a bridge to the past. The altar becomes a vivid reminder of the resilience of cultural traditions, a vibrant canvas where the diasporic community weaves the threads of its collective identity, imbuing every act with the echoes of history and the pulse of the present.
As I reflect on my journey and those of other migrants, it becomes clear that altars and the sacred objects they contain are far more than just symbols. They are living, breathing representations of the cultures, languages and identities we carry with us. They remind us that even in the midst of change, there are constants we can hold on to, threads that connect us to our origins while allowing us to grow in new directions. The altar in my home in Ireland may look different from the one back in India, but it’s a reminder that no matter where I go, I carry my heritage with me. Altars represent our struggles as migrants in trying to find a way to feel at home in a place that is not yet home and carve out a space where we can be both who we were and who we are becoming.
References
Gatta, G. 2016. "Stranded traces: Migrants’ objects, self-narration and ideo-logy in a failed museum project." Crossings: Journal of Migration & Culture, 7:2 181–191. doi:10.1386/cjmc.7.2.181_1.
Grant, Stan. n.d. "If Language Tells Us Who We are then Who am I?" The Guardian. Accessed December 13, 2021. https://www.theguardian.com/culture/commentisfree/2016/aug/31/if-language-tells-us-who-we-are-then-who-am-i.
Hagan, J. M. 2012. Migration Miracle: Faith, Hope and Meaning on the Undocumented Journey. Harvard University Press.
Mazumdar, Shampa, and Sanjoy Mazumdar. 2009. "Religion, immigration, and home making in diaspora: Hindu space in Southern California." Journal of Environmental Psychology. 29 256-266. doi:10.1016/j.jenvp.2008.07.004.
Rosenblum, Marc R., and Daniel J. Tichenor. 2012. The Oxford Handbook of the Politics of International Migration. OUP USA.
BIO
Richa Sharma is a Consultant at an international humanitarian charity, Start Network and a professional conference interpreter. A former Erasmus Mundus research scholar in Social and Human Sciences with a specialization in Transnational Migrations from Lille University, France she also holds an MPhil in French translation and interpretation from Jawaharlal Nehru University, India. Her research interests include migration data analysis, migration policy, diaspora identity (ies) and transnational ties among refugees and second-generation migrants, postcolonial studies and translation of hybrid texts.
