Catching frogs on moonlit night

My maternal hometown is in Tam Thanh, now divided into two districts Tam Nong and Thanh Thuy, Phu Tho . Surrounded by two big rivers, the Red River and the Da River, water flows in and out, this area is flooded for at least a few months every year. At that time, the fields were flooded. Therefore, houses were often built on hills. Rice could only be grown once in the winter, and after the summer harvest, the water returned.

The whole region switched to the silver industry. Every household built rafts, set fishing lines, set traps for carp, and set traps for eels. In addition to the seasonally flooded fields, the region also had deep water fields that never dried up all year round. This was the habitat of all kinds of aquatic animals. Many people in the region often told me about the giant soft-shell turtle, which could weigh up to two hundred kilograms. Later, when I went to school, I learned that it was a soft-shell turtle, the same species as the turtle in Hoan Kiem Lake, also known as the Shanghai soft-shell turtle.

Back then, there were still many turtles, and people occasionally caught them for meat. But it had to be specialized hunters, ordinary people had no way to catch turtles that weighed hundreds of kilograms, with extremely strong mouths and four legs that could break any net.

My grandfather did not participate in catching frogs, although he had eaten frog meat. Besides plowing and harvesting, his favorite thing to do was to set traps, set traps, and catch frogs. He caught frogs all year round, except for a few winter months, when the frogs would go into their burrows to avoid the cold.

In spring, early summer, when the rice has grown green and is as high as a person’s waist, my grandfather begins to prepare his frog fishing gear. The fishing rod is made of hop tree, a small bamboo with a straight, flexible stem. He chooses a hop tree with a joint at the base about the size of a big toe, 7-8m long. When the tree is still fresh, he heats it over a fire, bending the rod until it is very straight. Then he ties the rod tightly to the house pillar at the beginning of summer to shape it, waiting for the hop tree to dry completely before taking it out to use. He attaches a fishing line as thick as a toothpick, with a lead piece attached to the end of the line, and then the hook.

At 10 pm, after dinner, my grandfather went to the fields to catch frogs. Experienced frog catchers in the area like my grandfather could distinguish between frogs, toads, and frogs, just by the flashlight light reflecting off the animals’ eyes. Frogs and toads had eyes far apart, while frogs and toads had eyes close together. “If you want to know which is a toad and which is a frog, pay attention to this feature: Frogs’ eyes are clear, while toads’ eyes have a red glow,” my grandfather said.

But unlike when looking for frogs, when fishing, the angler must absolutely not use a flashlight, avoid making noise, except for the sound of the bait, so that the frog can confidently take the bait. My grandfather often used earthworms, hooked into clumps, lifted up and dropped them with a splash in the flooded rice fields. "The splashing sound, like a small prey looking for food, along with the fishy smell from the earthworms, stimulates the big frogs," my grandfather said. Many days when he was in a hurry and couldn't dig up worms, my grandfather caught frogs, hooked up the frog's stomach and used it as bait. Fishing with frog stomachs is also sensitive, the bait is tough and durable, although the bait's sensitivity is not as good as earthworms.

In the dark, my grandfather wore a conical hat, a basket on his hip, and fished in the middle of a vast rice field. While gently fishing, he suddenly felt the rice roots move, the fishing line tied to the end was heavy, he knew the frog had taken the bait. Counting from one to ten to make it swallow, he shook the end of the rod and lifted it up high. The frog waved its four legs, struggling violently to escape. But then it was forced to sit in the basket with its previously caught comrades who were croaking.

Some days he caught 2-3, some days he caught a dozen, enough to cook a pot of frog stew with banana and bean curd for the whole family to enjoy the next night. Every morning around 2am, he would come home, no matter how much, so he could go to the fields in the morning.

But that was the dry season. During the flood season, my grandfather caught frogs with a net and rowed a bamboo boat.

Tonight, he let me, his nephew, born in the countryside but raised in the suburbs of Hanoi , tag along to catch frogs.

Tonight is the 16th of the lunar month, the moonlight spreads across the vast water field. I don't understand how to catch a frog in the middle of a waist-deep water field. He said: You will understand when you watch me catch it.

My grandfather left his tools at the front of the boat, put on a flashlight, and rowed gently. I watched from behind. Our boat glided between the lotus, water lily, and white peony bushes.

Suddenly my grandfather let go of the oars and switched to the long racket. Following the flashlight beam above his head, I saw the frog sitting on a leaf, facing us. I thought: “If I just touch it lightly, it will jump into the water and disappear.”

My grandfather held the net in front of the frog and then tapped the side of the boat with the oar. The frog jumped away in surprise, but my grandfather's net was waiting in the direction it jumped.

My grandfather explained: The frog's eyes are dazzled by the light, so it doesn't understand what's going on, doesn't know what to do. If we startle it, it will reflexively jump forward and fall into the basket.

That night, my grandfather and I caught more than two kilos of frogs. My grandmother took half to the market to sell, and the rest he grilled so that his city-dwelling grandson could experience the taste of the countryside.

In a flash, my grandfather has been dead for decades. The Red River and Da River now have many hydroelectric dams upstream, and my hometown no longer has flooding. As a result, there are fewer groupers, and not many people go out at night to catch frogs in the flooded fields or fish for frogs like in the past. And if they do catch frogs, they don’t have to be as elaborate or spend days making a fishing rod like my grandfather. They just spend a hundred bucks to buy a retractable rod made of fiberglass and that’s it.

At night, from every village, the loud karaoke music drowns out the chirping of crickets and frogs, which are no longer as numerous as they used to be. The fields that used to be full of moonlight are now dry, and large trucks have come here to dump dirt to make roads.

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