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

Settling In 139Pretty much everything contributed to our misery in the Mud Camp.From late May through the summer, we were in the rainy season.Everything was soaking wet and muddy. When we went to bathe in thenearby creek, we had to pass by the kitchen or what the FARC calledthe rancho. Water was obviously needed for cooking, so the ranchowas often placed as close to the creek as possible. That made sense.What didn’t make sense was the FARC throwing all their garbage inthe water right where we were to bathe and wash our clothes. We wouldbe wading in the river in a floating stew of onion skins, vegetable tops,and animals parts, and that was supposed to pass for a bathing area.Toward the very end of our stay at the Mud Camp, Pollo came intoour area and tossed nine bars of soap on the ground. These blue barswere very valuable to everyone. Though they were intended to be used aslaundry soap, they were mild enough and more plentiful than the bathsoap we used to clean ourselves and nearly everything else we had.“Where you’re going, this is hard to find,” Pollo said cryptically.His words frightened us. If we were heading deeper into the jungleand farther from whatever supply lines the FARC had, it meant ourrelease was even more remote than we’d thought. We’d also heard somebombing activity, not as close to us as previously, but hearing it had putTom in a poor mood. He said that he had gotten it into his mind, andhe didn’t know exactly why, that there would be a fifteen-day cease-fireprior to our release. When the bombs fell, it added an additional fifteendays to his sentence. Keith knew that Pollo’s indication about a possiblerelease in time for his son’s birthday on May 20 was just so much moreof the usual FARC lies that we’d fallen victim to again.A few days later, we learned that we were going to be on the moveagain. We did the best we could to tell ourselves that the move was agood thing—but we were poking at the ashes of a fire that had longsince gone out. We moved out overnight, and even though the marchwas only a few hours, we were in agony. The nearly five weeks at theMud Camp of being tied up and not allowed to move freely had taken