Meeting the Fire Doctor of Taipei

The Fire Doctor of Taipei has coated my back with a brown paste of herbs, covered me with a towel and spritzed me with alcohol. After lowering the lights, he tells me to be calm—something not easy to do as I watch him ignite a blowtorch. I hear a sound like that of a gas burner being lit, and catch the refl ection of flames in a nearby mirror. It takes a few moments to register that the source of the fire is my back. I feel a sudden rush of intense heat—and fear.

For more than a dozen years, Master Hsieh Ching-long has been using open flame to rid pain. Master Hsieh (pronounced Shay) created fire therapy after years of medical training in Beijing, applying his knowledge of traditional medicine, martial arts and ‘pyromania’ to invent a powerful treatment for muscle aches and sports injuries. Photos on display in his small clinic depict the doctor with several dozen local celebrities, and he tells me that business is booming. “Not just anybody can heal with flame,” says the Fire Doctor. It requires years of martial arts training to “channel your inner energy” and “use your hands as iron.” While I’m not sure what this means, it sounded comic-book cool, and when he demonstrated his philosophy by ripping an apple in half with his thumbs, I knew I was in good hands.

Being set alight was my thrill of choice in Taiwan, the “other” China. Officially recognized by only 23 countries, the island nation lives in a constant state of tension with its larger neighbour. Established in 1949 after the communist revolution, Taiwan took off: its U.S.-supported economy boomed (today it has one of the region’s best financial systems and was one of the Four Asian Tigers to experience rapid industrialization), its democracy flourished. While political rhetoric between Taiwan and China often flares up, I had my own heat to deal with.

I was hoping Master Hsieh would use his able, though scarred, hands to untie the thick knots in my back. My treatment would come in stages. First, he uses heated glass cups to realign my energy. (Gwyneth Paltrow popularized this treatment a couple years ago when she revealed the source of the circular purple welts on her back.) Then the blowtorch is fired up, and my nerves begin sweating. After the herb paste is applied, the doctor ignites the brown goop before dousing the flames with a towel, and massaging the intense heat into my skin. “Now for the dangerous part,” he says. In the final act, an open flame is applied directly to the skin. Photos of other patients on the wall show grilled skin, lines streaking their bodies as if they were steaks on a barbecue. I sit upright, and feel the flame roll down my back on alcohol-doused cotton. It hurts. A lot. I smell the sickly sweet scent of skin being scorched. Finally, the doctor uses his vice-grip hands for a deep tissue massage, and signals the end of my treatment. My back is bright red but thankfully free of burn marks. I step out into the heat of Taipei, my adrenalin ablaze; the stiff muscles from yesterday’s long-haul flight slashed and burned into oblivion.

If You Go:

Master Hsieh Ching-long’s Fire Clinic is located at No. 2, Sec. 1, Chenggong Rd., Nangang District, Taipei City 115, Taiwan. Treatments typically last 40 minutes and cost around $35 CDN per session. Different skin types react to open flame in different ways, so proceed with caution. Heat bruises are common.

Robin Esrock is co-host of the OLN travel series Word Travels.

From Outpost Issue 68

This entry was posted on Monday, March 29th, 2010 at 11:19 am and is filed under Thrill Seeker. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site. Add to del.icio.us.