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

Politics and Pawns385getting pissed. The camera started to shake, and every time he turnedit in a different direction, Marc would pop into view with his chainscarf.Tom was speaking for all of us at that point, and all the disappointmentat the unraveling of our expectations came pouring out, alongwith a lot of pent-up frustration about being put in chains. It was a classicbit of rebellion. We piled up all the junk like it was stacked underour tropical Christmas tree. Enrique slunk out of camp like a cartooncharacter with steam coming out of his ears.We knew that he would exact his revenge on us, but we had no ideahe would distribute it so unequally. He put Tom in a second set ofchains but did nothing to Marc or me. Tom knew that was the natureof the beast. The dark road that Enrique traveled always seemed to leadback to Tom.Our Christmas “celebration” behind us, we prepared to move out.Enrique came to us on Christmas Day to tell us that we were going tostart the march that day.“We have a ways to go. These marches are difficult sometimes, asyou know. I’m sure you will be concerned about your condition. Youare responsible for yourselves. We are responsible for ourselves.”Without being direct, Enrique was making it clear that he wanted usto help carry the food supplies. We’d been down this road before. Technically,we, as captives, weren’t responsible for ourselves. The FARCwere responsible for feeding and supplying us. But his implication herewas clear: You don’t help us carry food in addition to your own gear, thenyou won’t eat as well. The first rations to be cut, in other words, wouldbe ours. We knew we didn’t have much choice. We were in chains andbeing led on a march. The chains were heavy, about ten pounds, andour packs were far heavier, but if we wanted the one thing that wouldsustain our energy, we were going to have to take on an extra load.“We’ll carry your food,” I said, “but we need something in exchange.Powdered milk and panela. If I get that, you can pile it on me.”