But Franco [a fellow prisoner of the guerrillas] was not easy to counsel. For one thing, he kept going on hunger strikes. Four of them, all told. "I won't be treated like this," he told me before the first one. "They can't victimize me. I'll show them -- I'll starve myself to death! They won't get their ransom. I still have some power over my own life!" I couldn't persuade him not to do it, so he angrily announced his hunger strike to the guerrillas and was enraged even further when they paid no attention.(Gosh, if it hadn't been for lupus_yonderboy we might have made it all the way through the thread without a "Christians suck" derail!)
By the end of the first night of his hunger strike, Franco came to me saying, "Oh, my friend, I'm so hungry! I can't stand it! You've got to bring me something to eat. Can you sneak me something from your dinner? Don't let the guerrillas know, whatever you do!"
By this time the guerrillas gave me a little more freedom to move around in the camp, so I was able to slip most of my dinner into a plastic bag and hide it under my shirt until I could pass it to Franco later that night. He waited until he was in his hammock and wolfed it down. This went on every day of his so-called hunger strike. And he was always ravenous, so it got to the point where I was starving to death because Franco couldn't get by on less than my full ration of food.
Eventually the guerrillas started to worry about Franco's health. One of them asked me, "Do you think he might die? How long can he live without food?" Most of the guerrillas had mixed emotions about it -- they didn't want to lose their ransom, but at the same time they fervently wished to be rid of him.
Finally, a responsable came to me and said, "Franco's hunger strike has lasted two weeks now. Can you do something to make him eat? We're getting tired of this. He's driving us crazy. We've decided to just go ahead and execute him if we can't get him to cooperate. After all, he wants to die from starvation, so it will shorten his suffering if we shoot him now." I decided humor might be the best solution to Franco's problem. "Don't worry about Franco," I told the guerrilla. "I'm the one who's starving -- he's been eating all my food!" The guerrilla laughed uproariously as I described how Franco had been getting plump while I wasted away from his hunger strike. It became something of a camp joke -- though Franco never knew about it. After this, every time Franco announced another hunger strike, they gave me two dinners -- one for me to "sneak" to Franco to keep him happy, and another for myself. We survived all four of his long hunger strikes this way. Franco was eventually released.
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posted by No Robots at 8:55 AM on May 11, 2007 [2 favorites]