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

Settling In 117was divided into three rooms. We all assumed that the three of us weregoing to be housed in it, but when Keith and Marc stepped onto theporch, their guard, Pollo, said, “No. No,” and led them off to the otherbuildings. Each of them had a separate building that was no more thansix or seven feet long and the same distance wide. They were basicallysquare boxes encased in chain-link fencing. It was clear to me that theywere originally intended to be used for storage, but somehow, throughthe chain of command, an order had been issued stating that the threeof us were going to be separated as much as possible.When we were shown the bathroom facility, we got an even strongersense that we were in here for the long haul. Instead of a hastily dugand quickly filled slit trench, the FARC had built an actual outhousewith a manual flush system. As glad as we might have been for thatsmall comfort and convenience, knowing that the ceramic toilet they’donce had on display was now to be used just added months to what weassumed would be the length of our stay. I’d been optimistically tellingmyself that we’d be held for three weeks. Well, the three weeks hadlong since passed during the twenty-four-day march and at MonkeyVillage, and now we’d been moved to what seemed to be a permanentsite. The camp was in better condition, we all had raised platform bedsto keep us out of the mud, but none of that mattered.That first night, I experienced what must have been an acute anxietyattack. When the guards had wrapped the chain through the door andsnapped the lock shut, it was as if they’d wrapped it around my neck.My heart raced, I sweated, and the racking dry heaves that turned myguts inside out were so violent and loud that Keith and Marc couldhear them. They shouted for the guards, trying to reason with themin their minimal Spanish to unlock my door. I made it through thefirst night, but there was little improvement the next day. I felt guiltythat the hooch I had was bigger than Keith and Marc’s. Keith was tallenough that he couldn’t lie completely straight in his without hittinghis head or his feet on the wall. I wasn’t claustrophobic, but I couldn’t