12.07.2015 Views

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

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

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

SHOW MORE
SHOW LESS
  • No tags were found...

Create successful ePaper yourself

Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.

Choices and Challenges17Sonia—searched <strong>the</strong> plane, toss<strong>in</strong>g stuff out <strong>of</strong> it and onto <strong>the</strong> ground.I could also see Marc stand<strong>in</strong>g with Tommy J and Sergeant Cruz. Theystarted to move Marc away from Tommy J and Cruz and down <strong>the</strong> hilltoward us. I could tell that Marc didn’t want to go, but <strong>the</strong> FARC guardon him was nudg<strong>in</strong>g him with his weapon. At one po<strong>in</strong>t Marc stoppedand turned back, and I followed his gaze up <strong>the</strong> slope. There, at <strong>the</strong> top<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> hill, stood Tommy J—worn out and <strong>in</strong>jured. He limped over toSergeant Cruz and put his arm around Cruz’s shoulders.That was <strong>the</strong> last we saw <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m.The FARC led Tom and me down <strong>the</strong> hill a little bit far<strong>the</strong>r. Thego<strong>in</strong>g wasn’t any easier, but we managed to make it ano<strong>the</strong>r four hundredyards or so to a small build<strong>in</strong>g made <strong>of</strong> rough-hewn lumber witha corrugated t<strong>in</strong> ro<strong>of</strong>. Tom and I stood <strong>the</strong>re for a few m<strong>in</strong>utes and<strong>the</strong>n Marc jo<strong>in</strong>ed us. A young female guerrilla—she couldn’t have beenmore than eighteen—brought out a large alum<strong>in</strong>um ola, or pot. In itwas water with a few lemon seeds float<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> it. She handed each <strong>of</strong> usa small cup <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> liquid. I was surprised at how sweet it tasted. FARClemonade was about as sugary as any sweet tea I’d had at home. Ilooked over <strong>the</strong> rim <strong>of</strong> my cup and all I could see was dark eyes framedby mustaches and black hair. I was struck by <strong>the</strong> odd assortment <strong>of</strong> hats<strong>the</strong>y wore and <strong>the</strong> half-ass assortment <strong>of</strong> ways <strong>the</strong>y wore <strong>the</strong>m. Whatk<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> terrorist organization was this?We descended more <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> slope, and after we’d gone several stepswe stopped. The next th<strong>in</strong>g I knew, <strong>the</strong> FARC were paw<strong>in</strong>g me, search<strong>in</strong>gfor any weapons and <strong>in</strong>dicat<strong>in</strong>g that we needed to strip down. Theyspread out a sheet, and Tom, Marc, and I did as we were told. Prettysoon we were <strong>in</strong> our underwear. I could barely conta<strong>in</strong> my anger at <strong>the</strong>hypocrisy <strong>the</strong> FARC <strong>the</strong>n demonstrated when one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> “idealistic”communists took <strong>the</strong> money out <strong>of</strong> my wallet and put it <strong>in</strong> his pocket.Here was this supposed guerrilla organization that was founded onMarxist pr<strong>in</strong>ciples, and yet <strong>the</strong> second <strong>the</strong>y come <strong>in</strong>to contact with privateproperty, <strong>the</strong>y jumped to take it for <strong>the</strong>mselves. Each accord<strong>in</strong>g to

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!