Dr. Fish

Sunday marked 2 years since first coming to Asia. It seems that I have indeed been here for awhile when things like this are just part of another Saturday night.

Jeff's feet enjoying a fishy nibble.

I first heard about Dr. Fish in China. I believe it was somewhere between Lijiang and Dali that I heard about the phenomenon of sitting in pools where little fish nibbled the dead skin off your body. No thank you very much, I though. I’ll stick to my loofah. At the sauna in North Korea, there was the opportunity to have the little suckers nibble the dead skin off of your feet. But the idea of a nude-sauna was more than enough challenge for one afternoon so I again declined. Finally, a few weeks ago, I got brave (read: all my friends were going) and decided to see what the whole thing was about.

While everyone plunged their feet in…

Jen and Jeff in the Dr. Fish pool. Apparently Jen's feet didn't taste so delicious. I however, spent most of the night like this...

For the 2 hours that we were there, I spent most of the time putting the heel of my right foot just below the surface of the water and yelping every time a fish came up for a nibble. I would gradually work myself up again to put a heel in the pool, wait for a fish to come, yelp, and retract the foot. And so the process continued for the evening. The nibbling fish felt like a cross between pins-and-needles in your legs and a strange tickling sensation. That combined with the fact that I generally have a fear of fish eating me (snorkeling is a whole adventure in and of itself), Dr. Fish and I have agreed to disagree.