Sauterelle

A couple weeks ago, I awoke to the joyful shouts of the Congolese. I climbed to the top of the house to pear over the wall. The people were flocking to the field just west of our house. They ran around digging in the long grass, as if a plane had dropped candy. I walked with my faithful friend, B, to check out the commotion. As I approached the field, I noticed even those driving motorbikes jumped off their rides and fled to the field. Children were jumping and singing as they chased after what appeared to be green flying objects. My friend yelled, “Justin, sauterelle!” In his hands were 4 bright green grasshoppers. “GOOD!” he shouted with laughter.

Sauterelle invade the area about once a year in November. The poor green buggers are a natural candy. Like many flying insects, they are attracted to bright lights at night. That evening, I again, heard shouts of joy. My Congolese family and I ran outside and the next thing I new, we were catching hundreds of flying grasshoppers…in the rain. After about an hour, we called it quits and took our evening’s catch to the stove. Within 30 minutes, they were fried. An analogy? Well, think of popcorn shrimp. Of course, the next question would be, “Did I throw a few down the old hatch?” The boys of 878 can attest I’ve eaten some crazy creations. So, I’ll let your imaginations wonder.