Travel Theme: Rhythm ~ Cambodia

This week’s travel challenge is “Rhythm” thanks to Alisa at  http://wheresmybackpack.com/ 

Monk Reading Under a Tree

Monk In Temple

South East Asia has a slow rhythm that is rich with cultural heritage.  Each country has a distinct flow and Cambodia is peppered with forgiveness, reverence, patience and contemplation. The pace of the country is laid back and peaceful yet exciting and exotic. The first two photos reflect the rhythm of daily life in Cambodia~ Monks in quiet reflection.

Child in a Cooking Pot “Boat”

This photo reveals the rhythm of the Mekong River. After spending a day exploring a floating river village, we had a line of chattering children following us in cooking pots. Towards the end of the day, their mothers called out to them and the children paddled home so the evening meal could be cooked!

Land Mine Victim Music Group

The land mine victims in Cambodia were a heart-wrenching vision! And yet true to the humbleness of the culture the victims gathered in musical groups to play at many of the temple sites playing melodic rhythm on local instruments. The music set the tone of the historical sites which deserve to be honored and respected as some of the greatest pieces of architecture and history.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Hands ~ Kecak Dance in Bali

Kecak Dance in Bali

The Kecak (Ramayana Monkey Chant) is performed by 100+ bare-chested men with checked cloths tied around their waists. The men line up in concentric circles around a fire as they sway, throw their arms up, wave their hands, lay prone and even create the illusion of a giant snake as the story progresses. This performance does not use any music except for the cacophony of synchronized chanting, “Ke, cak, cak, cak”. The backdrop of the dance we saw was an ancient temple and the central fire was the only lighting for the stage. As the story unfolds the rhythmic chanting sets a trance-like atmosphere as the audience sits transfixed watching the swaying of hands in the firelight. Pure Magic!

Third Culture Kid~ Where Are You From?

When I was younger, there was a four-word phrase that sent panic to my mind… “WHERE ARE YOU FROM?” Hmmmmmm… How to answer that loaded question? Most people can answer with a one-word response. My response is a paragraph:

Well, I am an American of European descent. I was born in Portsmouth, Virginia, but I moved to San Francisco, California. I was raised in Massachusetts as a young child. I moved to Kuwait and then Bahrain with a short stint in Atlanta, Georgia that I would like to forget! I graduated from an international school in Bahrain. My legal address was in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, but I never really lived there. I went to university in Pennsylvania, but I left after two and a half years. I became a flight attendant where I was “based” in London, but I resided in Bahrain. Then I settled in Ocean City, New Jersey. (This was all before I was 25 years old) I got married and then raised my young children in Ocean City, New Jersey. When my children were 8 and 9 years old we moved to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia where I have been for 8 years. We return each summer to the USA and go to PA, NJ, and NY. Our legal address is now NJ, but we no longer own property in NJ. My family and my husband’s family are mostly living in that tri-state area. Hmmmmmm… You guess!?! Where am I from?

Now the questions begin to fly… Am I crazy? Do I have attachment issues? Am I an orphan? Do I exaggerate? Was I a military brat? Am I in the military?NO! I was a Third Culture Kid (TCK) who moved for my father’s work and now for my work. According to American sociologist David C. Pollock, “A Third Culture Kid (TCK) is a person who has spent a significant part of [their] developmental years outside the parents’ culture. The TCK frequently builds relationships to all of the cultures, while not having full ownership in any. Although elements from each culture may be assimilated into the TCK’s life experience, the sense of belonging is in relationship to others of similar background.”

TCKs usually answer the “Where are you from?” question with vagueness like, “Home is where the heart is.”  or “Everywhere, but nowhere.” Many of us cannot easily answer the question. I am living abroad again in Malaysia and for the first time in a long time, I feel truly HOME even though I am not Malaysian. For us Third Culture Kids and adults, “home” is not a place. It is a concept. Home to me is where I feel understood, accepted and comfortable with my life choices. Now that I am an adult and I can appreciate all the advantages of being a TCK, the question does not frighten me any more. I embrace it and look forward to hearing other traveler’s answers.

Are you a TCK? How do you answer the question, Where are you from?

My TCK World Map:

These are the flags of the countries that have influenced who I am.

A Catharsis~ Nayati is returned safely to his family and community

Nayati in the school breezeway after his return.

After 144 hours of sleepless nights and endless days, Nayati was returned this morning to his family. The headmaster of the school announced that Nayati was home over the PA system after a dress rehearsal for an elementary concert this morning. The school erupted in cheers, laughter, hugging and tears of joy! The rest of our day was spent with silly grins and enormous smiles. Laughter had returned to our school along with Nayati.

At 2:45 the middle school and the high school were called for an assembly. The principal gave the microphone over to the headmaster who said that he had a special guest. Nayati and his parents walked up on stage. The crowd erupted into hysterical clapping and a standing ovation. People were crying and cheering, screaming and sobbing. Then we heard his sweet voice say I am Nayati. I am unharmed.  I have read all your Facebook posts. Thank you for all of your support. I am back!

Well the standing ovations and tears would not stop! He came down off the stage and walked up the theater steps into the audience and hugged all his classmates, teachers and parents. He then walked down the row of seats where the 7th graders were sitting and took a seat among his peers. Many of us have still not stopped sobbing.

When the assembly was dismissed, Nayati walked to our breezeway and continued to hug and thank everyone. His father tweeted that Nayati had decided to walk home from school. Holding his friends’ hands he walked right past the place he had been abducted 6 days earlier and went home to hang out with his buddies.

Nayati and friends walking right past where he was abducted. On his way home safe and sound!

This is an extraordinary story about an extraordinary boy! I have never seen a community come together they way that we did at M’KIS and I could not be prouder. Thank you to all of our friends near and far who sent positive thoughts, posted on social networks, hung posters and sent words of encouragement. Thank you for the incredible outpouring of love from around the world. This is the latest update to the Facebook page dedicated to finding Nayati; Sham (Nayati’s dad) is urging everyone to post pictures/videos/anything that was made when Nayati was missing. Nayati wants to see all the love/wishes/prayers that you made for him so that he can thank everyone when he can.

To Nayati and his family~ I want to thank you for your strength and dignity during your time of difficulty. You are an inspiration to us all!  Thank you for sharing your time with our community today. We all needed to see Nayati home and safe. We will all sleep a little easier tonight.

Nayati is BACK! Student Abducted in KL is Home With His Family!

Nayati is in the arms of his family 6 days after being abducted on his way to school!!!!!! Here is a photo his father used on Twitter showing Nayati and his young sister being reunited. Thank you for all your positive thoughts and energy sent his family’s way!!! The outpouring of love from around the world is astounding! Here is the press release from his family this morning.

Press Release :

We are delighted to tell you that Nayati is back home with us and although it has obviously been a very traumatic time for him he appears at this stage to be in good shape. We cannot begin to say how proud we are of him and the way that he has coped with the events of the past week.

We have been overwhelmed by the support we have received from all our friends here in Kuala Lumpurand all over the world. We are unable to find the words to express our gratitude but we will never forget what they did for us.

Even more surprising, because it was so unexpected, has been the support of people whom we have never met – and are never likely to meet – in countries as far away as Zambia and the USA, who have offered their time, skills and, in many cases, money, without any expectation of any form of compensation. We are so grateful for their help.

We also appreciate very much the tremendous practical and moral support we have received from the Netherlands Embassy and in particular the Ambassador, Mr Paul Bekkers. With his help we were able to surmount some “interesting” technical problems.

Finally we would like to express our gratitude to the Government of Malaysia, specifically the Royal Malaysian Police. Their number one priority from the start has been the safe return of Nayati and they have been most careful not to do anything that might have jeopardised his safety. We have enjoyed and will continue to enjoy our stay in this wonderful country.

As we are sure you will understand, Nayati’s kidnapping is the subject of an ongoing investigation so we are unfortunately not at liberty to reveal any of the details of the case at this stage.

There will be a press conference on Friday. Details to follow.
Thank you. – Moodliar Family

Expat Child Abducted in Kuala Lumpur

At 7:40 Friday morning, 27 April, Nayati Shamelin Moodliar was abducted a short distance from the Mont’Kiara International School. His whereabouts are still unknown. He has dark brown eyes and hair. He is about 1.5m tall and weighs 45kg. He was wearing a white polo T-shirt with the school’s emblem and dark green shorts. He is 12 years old. Please, if you have seen this child please call the Malyasian Police at 999, or the school at 0320938604. Please share.

Words cannot convey how my community is feeling tonight and I cannot even begin to imagine what the family is going through. One of our students from our school has been abducted from our neighborhood and our world has been shattered. It has been almost 48 hours since the kidnapping and there is not any word yet. The expat community and the local community are coming together to post fliers and flood the social media networks. Please re-post and spread the word. Keep hope for the safe return of Nayati Moodliar to his family. We are holding Nayati and his family in our hearts until he comes home safe. In whatever fashion you choose, and from whatever religious tradition you come, please keep Nayati and his family in your thoughts and prayers.

Break-Bone Fever? The Dreaded Dengue!

The peace of the gorgeous tropical day has been shattered. Sitting quietly by the pool, I suddenly feel the presence of a predator. I try to nonchalantly peer into the bushes to see what is making my hair stand on end. There he is, in his gray-striped pants, but he is unaware that he has been exposed. I shudder as he inches closer to me holding his weapon out in front of him as he looks for the best place to strike. It is now or never; kill or be killed. He doesn’t sense my awareness as he boldly makes his move. I am quicker! I am ready! I swiftly make my blow and blood splatters across my arm! His body lays crushed on the pool deck as I lie back down to try and enjoy my reading again. Another mosquito bites the dust! Since that fateful day in September, I am now always aware of the dreaded Dengue carrying mosquitoes.

Dengue Fever is a viral disease, spread by the Aedes mosquito, which infects 50-100 million people and kills about 25,000 yearly. It is a virus similar to Yellow Fever and West Nile Virus and has symptoms like Malaria. The mosquitoes which carry Dengue are active in the daytime and can be identified by their ugly little gray stripes which I can now spot from miles away! Symptoms include high fever, flu-like symptoms, vomiting, severe joint and muscle pain, and a ruthless headache between the eyes. It is a tropical illness that is more prevalent in cities where mosquitoes can breed in stagnant water.

As soon as we moved to Malaysia we heard the horror stories of Dengue Fever. Most people described it as a fever and illness so intense that your bones feel like they are on fire and are cracking into pieces. That description was enough to strike terror in my family, but apparently not enough to take full precautions. After avoiding the mosquito carrying virus for seven years, one bite was all it took.

I awoke one Friday morning in early September to go for my morning swim before school. I felt a splitting headache coming on so I took two Motrin and headed for the door. As I put on my flip flops I realized this was not an ordinary headache so I slipped back into bed after popping two Tylenol for good measure. Although I had a relentless headache and felt terrible, I made it through work by taking a ridiculous amount of pain medicine throughout the day. At 3:00 as the bell rang, I achingly plodded home and crawled into my bed as my head felt ready to be cracked apart and the mere act of opening my eyes was painful. By 6:00, I could barely lift my head or move and my clothes and sheets were soaked in gross yellow sweat. I had a 104 °F fever and my joints hurt so badly that the shaking from the fever sent excruciating pain shooting through my body. I knew I had the dreaded Dengue Fever.

The doctors confirmed my fears on Saturday morning with a blood test and suggested that I get admitted to the hospital right away. I was feeling a bit smug, thinking I could beat this, so I opted for my comfy bed, bad sit-coms, and People magazines. On Sunday and Monday I felt a lot better if you can call flulike symptoms “feeling better.” I went to my local doctor each day to have my blood drawn and to check my platelet count. The doctors were concerned because my platelet count was rapidly dropping and I was having a hard time staying hydrated despite drinking tons of water constantly. I knew the stories had been exaggerated, this wasn’t so bad….HA!  Nobody told me about the “honeymoon phase!”

When I awoke on Tuesday, I was convinced that I was going to die. The only problem was that I didn’t have enough energy to actually die and I could barely move. After the doctor insisted, my husband took me to the hospital where I proceeded to collapse in the waiting room. I got two bags of IV fluids in the ER since I was severely dehydrated, delirious and fainting. The pain in my head, joints, muscles, and bones was unbearable. The ER doctor admitted me to the hospital and I was hooked up to an IV bag for six days.

During this time I would be faked into believing that I was getting better only to have the fever and pain return again and again like that bad top-ten song on the radio. Finally I broke out in a rash that lasted for weeks and needed to be scratched to the point of bleeding. To top off all of the torture, a pleasant smiling nurse would prance in and jab a needle into my arm to draw blood for the platelet count three times a day. Every day it dropped a little bit more. Luckily I was too ill to care! I slept my way through the week with painkillers, sleeping pills and an IV bag as my constant companions. Finally the doctor released me on Sunday since my platelet count was stable, but I was still sick in bed for a few more days and the rash was worse than ever!

For weeks I realized why it is called break bone fever! My joints and muscles continued to hurt at the slightest effort and were swollen like they had been during my pregnancies. Eventually I felt better, the joint pain subsided and the rash finally faded. However all these months later there is one long lasting effect; I am seized with panic when I see a gray stripped mosquito flying around me. I am frantically swatting one right now as I sit at the pool writing this. Insect repellent and insect killer are never far from my reach. My family looks at me like I have three heads as I chase down a single mosquito like it is a murderer in a bad horror flick! Better to be safe than sorry. One bite is all it takes!

Laos for the New Year

Our family arrived in Vientiane, Laos anticipating a quiet laid back city in South East Asia. Well we got the SE Asia part correct. Vientiane is a vibrant dusty city with lots of traffic. It is an easy city to navigate and explore on foot or in open-air tuk-tuks. There are plenty of fabulous Buddhist temples to explore in the old city. Our favorite was the Wat Si Saket, which houses over 6,400 Buddha statues. We puttered around the city with a helpful tuk-tuk driver who refused to pull over when we got a flat tire until the rubber came completely off the rim. He had to flag down another driver and take his spare tire. We finally reached the temple at Pha That and it left me speechless. The blinding gold stupa stretched up to the heavens in the crystal blue sky.

The next day we left the capital and flew up to Luang Prabang. Our initial vision of Laos unfolded before us as we entered the “city” along the meandering Mekong River. In our travels we have previously crossed the mighty Mekong in Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam, but here in Luang Prabang it appeared especially magical. The charming old town is built right up to the banks with cafés overhanging the slopes. The pace was effortlessly slow and easygoing. The only transportation needed was a bicycle and your feet.

The temples are too numerous to count and the amount of saffron clad monks is staggering. We awoke pre-dawn to watch the procession of monks receiving alms from the people in the town.  The mist rose over the road and hills as barefoot monks padded in lines with outstretched baskets to accept their daily offering of sticky rice. The market place slowly came to life with coffee brewed by the cup and the smell of fresh croissants filling the misty morning. Locals quietly move about their business among the tourists snapping photos and resting in cafés drinking cheap local beer and eating sandwiches on fresh baguettes.

While sitting in a quiet café on the edge of the market, Brian and I watched the local and touristy scene. A blind man was lead by a woman and we watched in amazement as some of the tourist deliberately crossed away from him. The man approached the food stalls along the side of the road and without ever asking, each vendor offered him small change or food. He would respond with a beautiful wai and back away. The generous attitude and genuine smiles made this town my new favorite place in SE Asia.

 

On New Year’s Eve there were not any boisterous fireworks to ring in 2012. However thousands of candle lit lanterns floated peacefully into the night sky creating a magical tone to match the Laotian style. Local families roasted whole pigs and danced in the streets to celebrate the New Year. Luang Prabang will be etched in my memory for a long time.

Climbing Mount Kinabalu

“Hey, we are going to climb Mount Kinabalu!  Wanna come?” 

“Sure, why not!”

Little did I know this would change my attitude and my life!  My athletic marathon-running buddy invited me to come along with 4 other friends of varying degrees of fitness to climb the tallest mountain in South East Asia. I was 60 pounds overweight and extremely unfit. When I voiced second thoughts everyone stated, “You can do it! You have a year to get in shape!”

The climbers in our group were inexperienced, but it was my physical condition that worried me. I began to train and change my attitude. Self doubt and terror often plagued me for a year. I told myself over and over that I could actually do this climb and determination began to develop! Working with a personal trainer three days a week and walking or hiking many weekends got me into shape. My work place had a “Biggest Loser” contest and I came in fourth place by losing almost 30 pounds.

Mount Kinabalu is on the island of Borneo in Eastern Malaysia. It is 4,095 meters (13,435 ft) tall. It is a “technically” easy climb because special climbing equipment or gear is not needed. However that does not mean it is an easy climb because of the severe change in altitude at the summit. There are unsteady rocky trails, naked granite rock surfaces, shoddy ropes to climb up and drastic weather conditions at times.

Mount Kinabalu Shrouded in Mist

We hired a reputable guide, Marius, who planned our three days at the mountain. We flew to Kota Kinabalu with a group of six positive excited people determined to reach the peak and have fun.

Day One-  Friday

A small tour bus picked up our climbing group and we sped past local villages, water buffalo and outdoor markets while we talked excitedly about our upcoming challenge. The mountain, shrouded in clouds, loomed in front of us as reality set in. The weather was atrocious with torrential tropical rain that had been coming down for ten days. We ate dinner at a small cafe and tried to keep warm in the damp misty night air. Our bodies began to adjust to the higher altitude. We got into our bunks at the small hostel with anticipation of the climb early the next morning. The sleep was restless since the sounds of the rain forest and the teeming rain penetrated the thin walls mixing with our excitement and expectation.

Day Two-  Saturday

Rolling out of bed early, we tried not to let the morning weather dampen our spirits. I had pictured a hot humid climb through the gorgeous rain forest, but the hammering downpour had not let up over night. We donned our rain ponchos and strapped on our gear after a hearty breakfast and then checked in at the trail head. The adventure had begun at 1800 meters (5905 ft). Hiking through the rain on muddy steep steps quickly took a toll on our feet. We would have to climb eight kilometers up to Laban Rata at 3273 meters (10,738) this morning.

After the first kilometer, I took off the poncho and trudged on in just shorts and a t-shirt. I was soaked from sweating under the plastic poncho and the shower on my skin and clothes was a relief! We soon began to see hikers coming down off of the mountain. Many of them were disappointed because they had not reached the peak. The rainfall had made the trails too dangerous to climb and their guides had not allowed them to climb any further than Laban Rata. This was a huge shock because I had not anticipated the weather stopping us.

As the terrain changed from dense rain forest to sparser trees, so did our group. Four of our group members had gained a significant lead and my climbing buddy, Judy, and I were quite a ways behind. This was not a surprise and Marius stayed with the two of us as the others went ahead at their speedy pace. Our mantra became “Slow And Steady!” (SAS) Judy and I dubbed each other the “SASSY Girls” for our slow and steady pace! We met numerous groups of climbers and had fun chatting and joking along the way whenever we merged on the trail or at the rest huts along the way.

We continued to talk to everyone we met, laugh and have a good time for the six hours we scaled the mountain that day despite the difficult terrain, exhaustion and weather. There were many groups that came up the trails past us or hurried down the paths with wishes of good luck. Some of the guides would look at Judy and I, shake their heads and rapidly gesture to Marius. He told us that the other guides did not believe that we would ever make it up to the summit!  Marius told the other guides that “His Girls” would make it because they had great attitudes and determination!

The Sassy Girls went at a steady pace and enjoyed the flora and fauna we discovered on the mountain; pitcher plants, civet cats, enormous centipedes and huge Borneo Blue Worms. The last kilometer and a half was especially steep with rough, uneven steps and slippery wet rocks. Our path had become more of a stream bed than a hiking trail. The exhausted SASSY girls reached Laban Rata in about 6 hours and when our muddy soaked bodies passed through the door of the guest house, our group as well as many of the other climbers and guides cheered for us. We collapsed with a hot mug of tea and an enormous sense of pride and accomplishment! Many other climbing parties came in hours later after dark and we realized that we had made the trek in a reasonable amount of time.

"Waterfalls" where paths should be!

Looking out the window caused immense heartache and severe disappointment. Waterfalls were splashing rapidly down the sheer cliffs past the guest house. These waterfalls were actually the trails we were meant to climb at 2:00 am. The view was extremely limited due to the tropical downpour which refused to end. Only 70 percent of the climbers had made the summit that morning and our chances were not looking any better for our ascent the next morning. In our hostel room for the six of us, bedtime came early to the sounds of pitter-patter on the roof and the creaking sounds of anxious people in old metal bunks!

Day Three-  Sunday

A quick night of freaking out, dozing, freezing and self-psyching up passed all too fast as the noise of climbers waking had me on alert. At around 1:00 a.m., I crept down the stairs to hear news of the weather and the fate of our summit ascent. Early risers were having breakfast and buzzing with the miraculous news that the rain had stopped an hour before and we would be able to finish our climb! We dressed in our cold weather gear, strapped on head lamps and waited to be called to begin the most difficult and longest part of the climb in the pitch dark.

Marius had Judy and I begin before the others in our group with the goal of making the summit by sunrise. Climbers must brave steep uneven steps formed from tree roots, uneven rickety ladders and trails surrounded by shrubs. I could not see two feet in front of my face so I was thrilled when the ground seemed to open up. This illusion soon gave way to sheer, slippery, wet, steep naked granite rock. After about two hours we reached the last check point of Sayat-Sayat at 3810 meters (12,500 feet).

Ann and Judy~ SO CLOSE! Almost there!

We were climbing in complete darkness and I was grateful for the headlamp as both hands had to hold onto ropes to pull ourselves up and steady our bodies. The trail was treacherous and as steep as 75 degree angles. I was grateful that I could not see down at this point. The last kilometer to the summit was the hardest challenge to face. The lack of oxygen due to the altitude was taking its toll on my exhausted body. One step – one breath was repeated with pure determination. We watched the sun rise over Donkey Ear Peak and finally made a rendezvous with our climbing party!

Ann, Jay, Judy, Kathleen, Jim and Lori at the summit peak of Mount Kinabalu!!!

Judy and I had made the summit to join our four other friends!  Hugs and congratulations flew over the mountain top as we realized the achievement we had made! We posed for photos and savored the accomplishment. The sense of pride was overwhelming and tears flowed freely down my face. I was overcome with emotion when I realized what I had done! This elation was short lived as Marius reminded us that now we had to get off the mountain and soon. The weather was turning again.

With a few glances over my shoulder, I began the descent back into the mist. Shock and fear took over as we reached the edges of the rock faces we had climbed up in the utter darkness. The blackness hid the shoddy ropes, unsound ladders, sheer drop offs and the unimaginable height of the mighty mountain. Judy and I slowly and steadily made our way back to the rest house at Laban Rata at the same time as the returning tropical rains. Our friends were already there and after a short rest, we began the treacherous descent.

The descent! How did we get OVER that ridge in the dark?

The rains were so heavy at times that we could barely see in front of us. The trails were not visible through the two feet of water rushing over them and into our ankle high boots. We were climbing down a vertical river! We met climbers coming up the mountain and maintained an amazing attitude despite our exhaustion and discomfort. Only once did we fall into despair and question how we would make it down, but the Sassy Girls quickly rallied. We met others along the climb down who were not as fortunate as us to have made it up to the peak so our triumph kept us moving. We met our friends at the foot of the mountain in the same café we began three nights before. Cheers, tears and a sense of elation greeted us as we were finally able to say, “WE DID IT!”

It has been a year since I left the mountain and the sense of pride has not passed yet. Whenever I am feeling a bit down or unsure, I transport myself back to Mount Kinabalu and remember how I had persevered ~ slow and steady. I conquered the mountain and the weather, but more importantly, I conquered my own self doubt!

How I still feel... "I am on top of the world!"

What can you do today that you didn’t know you were capable of doing last year?

Flesh-Eating Fish!?!

Hundreds of tiny fish rushed at my feet and legs, hungrily eating the flesh as I tried to suppress the screams! Piranhas? Horror flick? No, the latest craze in spa treatments, Fish Therapy!

 

I love a good day at the spa with a massage, manicure, pedicure and facial as much as anyone.  There is a new spa in town that everyone is talking about.  Friends raved about it, my students giggled and could not stop talking about it and my student’s parents invited me to join them at the spa. However, fish eating the dead skin off my feet and legs was just too weird for me to try. Garra Rufa fish (aka: doctor fish, nibble fish, Chinchin or kangal fish) are stocked in a large tank and you stick your legs inside the water and let the fish eat off the dead skin.  Seriously, how gross is that?

 

My family and I were just too curious and decided to try it.  We walked into the spa and it was a gorgeous peaceful atmosphere. Quiet music played in the background, candles were lit, beautiful water fountains flowed and lovely art hung on the walls. We paid RM 38.00 (US $12.00) for a thirty minute session. We washed our legs and sat on the plush cushions beside the wooden pools lined with lilies and candles.  I plunged my feet in the water and had to refrain from squealing as hundreds of fish rushed at my legs and toes! It was the strangest sensation, but quite pleasant. It felt just like leaving your legs in front of Jacuzzi jets. We were able to relax after a few minutes and at the end of the thirty minutes my legs felt soft and rejuvenated! I can feel the line where my legs were not submerged in the water!

 

Garra rufa fish originate in the river basins of Turkey, Syria, Iran and Iraq.  The practice, called Ichthyotherapy, was discovered a century ago to treat skin conditions such as eczema and psoriasis. It is becoming a new trend in spas which are popping up all around Asia and Europe. My husband, my son and I all loved it, but my daughter took her feet out within ten minutes.  She could not tolerate the tickly feeling.  I have gone back again and enjoyed it as much as the first time. I highly recommend it. This is one spa treatment you will never forget!

 

 

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