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

378 OUT OF CAPTIVITYthe FARC wanted everyone to believe. Enrique hovered around himwith his video camera for a few minutes, trying to get the best shots hecould. Marc took out the scrap of T-shirt he used as a handkerchief andswatted at a few mosquitoes, never smiling, never looking straight intothe camera.Keith was next, so Marc and I had a chance to talk.“I really, really wanted to say something to my family,” Marc said.“I really did. This just hurts so bad. I feel like I’ve swallowed a brickand it’s lodged in my throat. My kids. What would they think if theyknew?”Keith did the same thing as Marc, as did Lucho. My motivation waswanting to hold my marriage together and not having someone waitfor me to be released out of pity. I hadn’t heard from Mariana in quitea while, and I wasn’t sure what our status was, but I did want her andmy sons to know how I felt about them.Sitting there with Enrique taping me was surreal. Here was this guywhom I hated so much I just wanted to spit in his face, a guy whoordered me placed in chains. And yet there I was speaking words oflove to my wife, looking into the camera and trying to ignore who wasbehind that lens. I handed Enrique a letter that I’d written to my wife.It was essentially a will, so that in case I didn’t make it out, my familywould be well taken care of. I needed to know that things would behandled neatly and there would as few loose ends as possible. As apractical guy, I needed to have that bit of security in my pocket. I wasn’tparticularly worried about dying, but covering all the bases would helpme rest easier.The letter also included a list of things my wife needed to do to keepthe house in good working order. The gutters needed cleaning once ayear so that they wouldn’t overflow and ruin the wood siding. Therehad already been some water damage before the crash and I told herto get a carpenter to fix it. I knew that it was an oddball assortment of