Captive: 2,147 Days of Terror in the Colombian Jungle
Autor Clara Rojasen Limba Engleză Paperback – 24 mai 2010
After more than two years of captivity deep in the Colombian jungle, surrounded by jaguars, snakes, and tarantulas, miles from any town or hospital, Clara Rojas prepared to give birth in a muddy tent surrounded by heavily armed guerrillas. Her captors promised that a doctor would be brought to the camp to help her. But when Rojas went into labor and began to suffer complications, the only person on hand was a guerrilla wielding a kitchen knife. The guerrillas drugged Rojas with anesthetic while one of them slit open her abdomen. Her son, Emmanuel, was born by amateur cesarean section in April 2004. His survival was miraculous, but her joy was soon cut short when the FARC took him from her when he was only eight months old. For the next three years, Clara was given no information about him, but her desire to one day see him again kept her alive. In early 2008, Clara was finally liberated and reunited with her son—to whom this book is dedicated.
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Specificații
ISBN-13: 9781439156957
ISBN-10: 1439156956
Pagini: 256
Dimensiuni: 140 x 214 x 18 mm
Greutate: 0.22 kg
Ediția:Original.
Editura: Atria Books
Colecția Atria Books
ISBN-10: 1439156956
Pagini: 256
Dimensiuni: 140 x 214 x 18 mm
Greutate: 0.22 kg
Ediția:Original.
Editura: Atria Books
Colecția Atria Books
Extras
1
Dispatched from Freedom
JULY 22, 2008
It’s been almost six months now that I have been free, and it still feels like it’s all a dream. Early each morning, I awake to the sound of birds chirping all around me. I live in Bogotá’s savanna, where the air is crisp and I can take in the mountain scenery from my window. There isn’t a morning that goes by that I don’t thank God I’m still alive. It’s the first thing I do upon opening my eyes. Yes, to thank the blessing that’s reunited me with my mother, with my son, Emmanuel, with my family and friends, and with all those who I love most. I am grateful to finally be able to leave it all behind. The kidnapping, the captivity—that’s all in the past. Now that my life is back to normal, with the affection and company of my loved ones, it’s strange to recall that not so long ago, when I was rotting away in the jungle, I could have felt so alone. So utterly forgotten.
Many have asked if I’ve changed since the kidnapping; if I’m still the same Clara that I always was. I tell them yes, that for the most part, I’m still the same person—but with a scar on my stomach now, and a profound mark made on the way I think and feel about things, which I can only hope will fade with time. Sometimes I’m assaulted by feelings of sadness, but, luckily, I have Emmanuel at my side for comfort. As is expected, I would have preferred that the Colombian guerrilla organization known as the FARC hadn’t robbed me of six years of my life. But I’m alive and here to tell the tale. Each person will recount what the war was like from his or her perspective. I’m just another soldier. And this is my story.
These words come from the depths of my heart, and I write this for many reasons. First, I’ve always dreamed of writing a book. I’ve written various academic and professional works, but this is a chance to bare my soul in the world of letters, a field that I’ve always adored. I’m also inspired to write a memoir so that it remains for my son and those of his generation. Because I long to be part of a country that prioritizes reconciliation, forgiveness, tolerance, growth, and peace. Lastly, I want to share my experience with readers and have them understand the difficulties I suffered and overcame, so that perhaps while reading this book, a seed of hope and longing will be planted in their hearts.
© 2009 PLON
Dispatched from Freedom
JULY 22, 2008
It’s been almost six months now that I have been free, and it still feels like it’s all a dream. Early each morning, I awake to the sound of birds chirping all around me. I live in Bogotá’s savanna, where the air is crisp and I can take in the mountain scenery from my window. There isn’t a morning that goes by that I don’t thank God I’m still alive. It’s the first thing I do upon opening my eyes. Yes, to thank the blessing that’s reunited me with my mother, with my son, Emmanuel, with my family and friends, and with all those who I love most. I am grateful to finally be able to leave it all behind. The kidnapping, the captivity—that’s all in the past. Now that my life is back to normal, with the affection and company of my loved ones, it’s strange to recall that not so long ago, when I was rotting away in the jungle, I could have felt so alone. So utterly forgotten.
Many have asked if I’ve changed since the kidnapping; if I’m still the same Clara that I always was. I tell them yes, that for the most part, I’m still the same person—but with a scar on my stomach now, and a profound mark made on the way I think and feel about things, which I can only hope will fade with time. Sometimes I’m assaulted by feelings of sadness, but, luckily, I have Emmanuel at my side for comfort. As is expected, I would have preferred that the Colombian guerrilla organization known as the FARC hadn’t robbed me of six years of my life. But I’m alive and here to tell the tale. Each person will recount what the war was like from his or her perspective. I’m just another soldier. And this is my story.
These words come from the depths of my heart, and I write this for many reasons. First, I’ve always dreamed of writing a book. I’ve written various academic and professional works, but this is a chance to bare my soul in the world of letters, a field that I’ve always adored. I’m also inspired to write a memoir so that it remains for my son and those of his generation. Because I long to be part of a country that prioritizes reconciliation, forgiveness, tolerance, growth, and peace. Lastly, I want to share my experience with readers and have them understand the difficulties I suffered and overcame, so that perhaps while reading this book, a seed of hope and longing will be planted in their hearts.
© 2009 PLON