Out of Captivity : Surviving 1,967 Days in the Colombian Jungle

The Transition 107I wasn’t a big coffee drinker, so I let Tom and Keith take my portion ofeither the coffee they brought out or the hot chocolate they gave us.I knew that by staying in my hooch I was missing out on one thing.The guards brought the food to one point, where they left the pots sowe could serve ourselves. If we all gathered there at the same time, theguards didn’t mind. That was an opportunity for us to at least be nearone another and to whisper a few words of encouragement or evennonsense. Anything to keep the connection going. I had to weigh mydesire for that contact against my desire to shorten the day. There wereother opportunities during the day to engage in limited attempts atsocializing, so in the mornings I opted to sleep in as long as I could. Idid enjoy hearing Tom and Keith grousing about the fish heads in theirsoup some days, but I definitely wouldn’t have enjoyed having to dealwith that soup. I took some satisfaction in knowing that my not participatingin breakfast in the jungle would guarantee that Keith’s coffeehabit did not go unmet.Even before captivity Tom was an early riser, who hated the heat. AtMonkey Village he’d get up at sunrise and then lie in his hammock.The flies weren’t out at that hour and that way so he could get about anhour of insect-free peace. He would have spent more time in his buildingand out of the heat, but there was a rat’s nest in the beams supportingthe tin roof and it rained down a constant stream of droppings,twigs, and leaves. He tried to keep his place as clean and orderly as hecould, but the amount of effort and the results he could achieve withthe jungle broom he was provided with didn’t measure up.When I’d been at home in Florida, every now and then I’d watcha nature show with my kids, but watching nature on the DiscoveryChannel and living in it full-time were two very different things. TheFARC had pigs, actually they were peccaries, that would come aroundto eat whatever scraps were left from our meals. I didn’t mind themtoo much, but their squealing, when added to the rest of the incessant