In Eliana I found a revolutionary of another kind. The person responsible for management, she occupied herself with zeal for everything that is related to the supply of the camp. Her beauty was not physical. By middle age, strengthened, brusque in movements, she had reached the level of sub commander and her combatant's curriculum was dispersing doubts about the merits of the guerrilla. It was a few words, but at the wheel of a truck, she responded with speed and security to the questions that I formulated on the history of FARC and the organization of the camp.
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| Female Guerrillas of FARC |
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Yurleni, the ranchera, projected the image of a young uninhibited, talkative peasant, moving with spontaneity. She was spending the day in the kitchen preparing meals for the guests. When we appreciated a hunting plate or a Colombian specialty she reacted so effusively that she even informed her chattering parrot of the fact perched in a shrub, beside a bin of water, in the yard where hens and the quail rambled, mascot of the guerrillas. Yurleni had a companion, John, and she was said to be happier than some day could imagine. The girl, had an obsession: to be a soldier. But she ended up in FARC when she realized that it was a lie that they calculated about them and that the guerrilla war was, this yes, an army of heroes, as no other existed.
In Isabel, the historian, I discovered is the romantic one. She concentrated on ideology in the university, that she pushed for FARC. She was in the threshold of a life of comforts, already with a master's degree and working in an international organization that was guaranteeing a monthly salary of almost 2000 dollars when....
She hesitated while arriving there and I was interrupted, trying to get down to the roots of the option that had made her change course.
- The reflection time was brief - she answered - I felt an increasing mourning for the type of life that was opening for me. She did not want to be ground by the system. The appeal was irresistible. Helped by friends, I came to stop at FARC, which I admired without knowing them...
Stirred Admiration
Isabel maintained long discussions with me. Ideological subjects fascinated her and found in me an interlocutor. After one year, she still felt herself a beginner. She fulfilled all her tasks exemplarily, I verified that she shot very well, but the unreliability tormented her.
Isabel's beauty was attracting attention for her gentleness. She had very white skin, a pair of enormous, bright eyes and a body where everything seemed defined in form and proportion. The combination appeared unreal.
One day I asked her since, being so beautiful, she had no companion.
It took time to answer:
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