Heat treatment is a baptism of fire
Heat has long been used as a form of physical therapy, so when I heard about a doctor in Taipei who uses actual fire to heal, I thought he'd be the perfect candidate to melt the plane-seat knots in my back. By fire, I refer to an open flame, applied to the skin, and spread around to realign the energies (or perhaps just burn the confusion out of them).
Besieged by scooters, noisy motor mechanics' shops and traffic, Hsieh Ching-long's Fire Clinic is situated off a typically busy Taipei street. A large sign depicts the good doctor, proud, professional, resembling martial arts hero Jet Li Lianjie and glowing with heat and wisdom.
Hsieh created fire therapy a dozen years ago after medical training in Beijing, using his pyromania and applying his knowledge of traditional medicine and martial arts as a new form of treatment for muscle pain and sports injuries. From the photos on display depicting him with several dozen local celebrities, it's clear his practice is sizzling.
He tells me not just anybody can heal with flame; it requires years of martial arts training to channel your energy and learn how to use your hands as 'irons'. When he demonstrates his technique by ripping an apple in half with his thumbs, I know I'm in good hands.
Hsieh surveys the hull of my back and confirms that it is, indeed, a shipwreck. My treatment will consist of three parts. First, he spreads the energy using the traditional Chinese massage technique of cupping that's common across Asia, in which heat sucks glass cups to the skin. It feels not unlike receiving wet love bites from a halibut.
Next, Hsieh leads me across his small clinic to a massage table, where he assembles a few towels, a bowl containing a paste of 24 herbs, alcohol and a blowtorch.
Spreading the brown goop on my back, Hsieh covers me with a towel, sprinkles it with alcohol, and fires up the blowtorch. Base jumpers are fearless and spelunkers are brave, but nobody in their right mind wants to be at the wrong end of a blowtorch. I sneak a horrified peak from the towel protecting my head, and see the reflection in a window nearby. I'm being grilled. Within moments, Hsieh douses the fire with a towel and proceeds to spread the warmth, massaging the heat with his bare hands. It's bearable if slightly hot, and it must be good for you, otherwise he wouldn't be in business.
Scars and burns on Hsieh's hands and wrists leave little doubt that playing with fire is not for your average physiotherapist, and I'm a little unnerved when he tells me it's time for the 'dangerous part'. To put me at ease about the steadiness of his hand, Hsieh hands me a sledgehammer, sandwiches his fist between two bricks, and tells me to swing away. When in burning Rome ...
My swing smashes the brick but takes a chunk of flesh out of his hand. Apparently, I didn't swing hard enough, so I must do it again, even as blood stains my iron mallet. Hsieh has not broken a sweat. Another attempt and the force of my swing transfers through his fist and breaks the bottom brick. Now, I assume, it is safe to let him take open flame and rub it up and down my back. I hope he isn't upset about the blood.
Polaroid photos on a wall show the possible results of fire therapy, with the backs of unfortunate clients looking like they've been barbecued. You never quite know how your skin is going to burn, and this kind of reaction is possible.
As he soaks a long cotton bud in alcohol, lighting it and applying it to my skin, there is no doubt in mind - or body - that fire and skin are just not meant to mix. A couple of swabs later, I can't feel my stiff muscles because I'm too distracted by pain and the smell of my singeing epidermis.
I pay up, and walk out into the street, an escaped steak from the grill house. My back pain has been drowned in the heat of adrenaline, and regardless of its risk, I have to commend the fire doctor for his treatment. Well done, sir, well done.
Getting there: Dragonair (dragonair.com) flies directly to Taipei. Master Hseih Ching-long's Fire Clinic is at No 2, Sec1, Chenggong Road, Nangang District. Treatments typically last 40 minutes and cost around US$35 a session.
Robin Esrock is the host of Word Travels on Nat Geo Adventure.
