Whirlpooling in Beer Land!

They were walking through the wet market on their way to find the good smoothie stand. A girl they knew sold them on the far side of the sprawling, out door maze of booths and tables and people and creatures. The air smelled like sweet rain, charcoal grills and fish. As they swiftly moved through the path, she, being taller than anyone else around, took advantage of this bird’s eye view.

The vendors sold everything. Fresh vegetables and fruits were everywhere. Small pools were filled with water, bubbling with air and occupied by live fish. You could just select your fish and they would pull it out of the water, clean it and you’d be on your way. Talk about fresh meat! By now she was used to the chatter that surrounded her. At first it seemed so foreign and aggressive but over time its cadence became familiar and less threatening. She couldn’t always understand the specifics of what was being said, but she got the gist.

As she and her friend got to the middle of the market, it was so crowded, their swift pace slowed to a crawl. This gave her the time to really take in the scene around her. She saw, on a table to her left, something that looked odd. She paused, took a moment to stare harder but her brain was unable to comprehend what she was seeing.

It was a blob. Or a clump maybe. Of pink looking flesh. And it was moving. One part would expand and then contract. Then another part would expand and then contract. What on earth was she looking at? She leaned to her friend and pointed to the amorphous blob, what is that she asked?

A rog, replied her friend. A rog? It rogs. What in the hell was a rog? Her friend could tell that she still did not understand. Like a toad, her friend said louder. A toad! Not a rog, a frog! That’s what her friend was trying to say. Ok, but this still doesn’t make sense. She knew what frogs were. She had tried frog legs before but this gooey mass of tissue looked nothing like a frog, living or dead, that she had ever seen.

They remove the skins, her friend explained, while the frog is still alive. And then they tie them together in convenient family size packs of frogs. People want fresh meat in the wet markets and the taking the skins off step is a time saver her friend explained to her matter of factly. No big deal, just a clump of live skinned frogs blobbing around on a table waiting to be bought and eaten. Neat, she thought. Let’s go get those smoothies.