That day was the day. The day they were supposed to appear. A shaman named El Rubio had been drinking yagé the night before and had met the children in his dream. He interpreted it as a divine sign. With this mystical conviction, the natives Nicolás, Dairo, Eliezer and Álex marched through the jungle the next day. They were alone for a while before they overtook the military they were traveling with and got lost in the undergrowth. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, a time when it was advisable to return to camp before dark. But they kept going because they believed the wizard’s words. On this aimless walk, the four met a turtle.
“Little turtle, if you don’t give birth to the children, I’ll eat your liver fried,” Eliezer said between laughs.
“And I drink his blood,” Nicolás was clearer.
The turtle didn’t flinch. Eliezer strapped it to his back and carried it like a backpack. The trackers advanced another ten yards until they reached a clearing. There, in the distance, Dairo heard what seemed like a baby’s crying. He estimates it was about 50 meters away as the crow flies. “It’s the children!” He felt the urge to scream. And they all ran away. Nicolás was the first to reach them and found Lesly, the eldest, 13 years old, with the one-year-old baby in her arms. He hugged him and told him not to be afraid, they were native people from Putumayo and they had been looking for them for weeks.
The brothers at the time took shelter in a shelter built from banana leaves, a tropical plant and some sheets they had taken from the plane that crashed 40 days earlier. They, who were traveling in the rear, survived the frontal impact on the ground unharmed. The three adults, however, were in front and died from the impact. Since then, the children have been wandering alone in the Amazon.
Special forces soldiers help search for the four minors who disappeared after a plane crash. Colombian Army (EFE)
Newsletter
Analysis of current affairs and the best stories from Colombia, every week in your mailbox
GET THIS
Thanking the gods for the find, the natives blew tobacco as an offering to the jungle and sprinkled holy water on the children. The only boy, the five-year-old, told them that his mother had died in the accident. To warn of the incident, Dairo struck the root of a bamba, which made a sound that spread more than a kilometer. But nobody answered him. They were alone and soon it would be dark. They had to flee, Dairo says, because they feared that the forest goblin, who they believed had been holding the children all along, might take them away again. So they each invited one of the children over and made their way back to the nearest military camp. Spotting the soldiers’ uniforms in the undergrowth, Dairo yelled, “We’ve found the target.” The turtle had done its part.
This ended last Friday the rescue that kept half the world in suspense. It bordered on a miracle: firstly, because the children were unharmed in a plane crash, and secondly, because they later managed to survive for almost seven weeks in a jungle full of jaguars, poisonous snakes and poisonous plants. The army and indigenous communities had been searching tirelessly for them. They had traveled halfway through the jungle behind them, but the children emerged only five kilometers from the crashed plane. How could that happen? One theory is that the children avoided the adults for fear of being scolded, so they kept silent when they heard the footsteps of the soldiers.
The children, who appeared malnourished, dehydrated and plagued by mosquito bites, have been admitted to the Bogotá military hospital and are awaiting Family Welfare, the body that cares for minors in the country, to decide who will remain in their care. His mother, Magdalena Mucutuy, died in the accident, a woman who had run marathons in her youth. The most natural thing is that they ended up in the hands of their father, Manuel Ranoque, who is suspected of abusing his wife and children. Ranoque is the biological father of the two minors, the baby and the five-year-old, and stepfather to Lesly and the other nine-year-old girl, Soleiny. The maternal grandparents assure that he never took care of his family, they accuse him of being an alcoholic and violent. The government will decide in the coming months what to do with some minors who certainly do not know that they are considered heroes out there.
The army sent more than 100 special forces members to find her. Colombian President Gustavo Petro assured that this is a national priority. The Flores commando descended into the jungle from a helicopter 60 meters above sea level. He carried an M-4 rifle, hand grenades, night vision goggles and a satellite phone. He had the opportunity to meet with the FARC dissidents, the guerrillas who did not accept the peace process and are still in turmoil in the country’s most inaccessible places. Flores and his companions embarked on a mission akin to looking for a needle in a haystack.
Soldiers prepared to board a helicopter to search for the lost minors. Mauricio Dueñas Castañeda (EFE)
During the month they were immersed in the jungle, they didn’t shower. The rainwater running down their bodies was all that cleaned them. They did not brew coffee and were not allowed to wear deodorant for fear the scent would reach the enemy. To gratify the spirits of the jungle, whiskey or brandy was poured into the pipes. “We did our research, but we respected the beliefs of the indigenous people,” says Flores. As a sign of goodwill, they scattered tobacco on the ground. The military were initially very skeptical of the idea of a goblin holding the brothers. “But in the end we believed what they said. We found the children’s footprints, but not her. It was as if something supernatural made her invisible. For the record, I believe in God,” Flores added.
Lesly, meanwhile, kept her brothers alive. The young woman had ideas about surviving in the jungle. He lived in Chuquiqui, a community in Araracuara, a city in the middle of the jungle that grew up around a prison built by a Colombian president for the most dangerous criminals. The prisoners had no cells, they lived outdoors but were trapped in the jungle. Crossing it meant certain death. Not for Lesly, who has learned to move through them since childhood. He knew how to use the few rays that pierced the trees to identify navigable paths, passable paths, broken branches someone had passed, and poisonous plants. His maternal family says that he sometimes fled from his father’s beatings and hid in the jungle for two or three days.
Lesly lost a pair of scissors a few days after her loss and afterwards used her teeth to cut branches and build shelters. She ran out of food and chewed fruit to put in the bottle or a bottle of water to feed the baby. When they found her, she was carrying a bag of fariña, a kind of coarse flour made from cassava, and milpes, a purple fruit. From the plane he got some sheets, the farina, the awning with which they sought shelter, while emptying the first-aid kit.
“It was too imaginative,” says Pedro Sánchez, a general in Colombia’s special forces, whose eyes watered in the interview.
“What do you think of the theory that the kids hid from you for fear of being scolded?”
“We passed them 40 meters, maybe the same day or a day before or after.” And they listened to us, both the soldiers and the aborigines. Lesly heard the helicopter, the speakers with her grandmother’s voice, but I don’t know why she didn’t help us just find her. Only she knows.
Manuel Ranoque, father of the four children who disappeared in the jungle, with a soldier from the Colombian army. Colombian Armed Forces (EFE)
The father, Manuel Ranoque, joined this search. He had met Magdalena, the children’s mother, when they both worked in informal gold mining. To do this, they mixed the sediment with toxic substances such as mercury. After the gold was separated, the mercury returned to the river and poisoned it. This business is usually in the hands of organized crime. In 2015, they moved in together, very close to his mother. What has happened to mankind since the first sun happened to Magdalena: she got along badly with her mother-in-law. He later became governor of Puerto Sabalo, an indigenous reservation. At Easter of that year he suddenly left, leaving his family behind. According to his version, he received threats from dissidents, who denied this in a statement. The mother and children boarded the plane, piloted by a former taxi driver, on May 1 and made plans to meet him. The idea was to start a new life in Bogotá, far away from the Amazon.
“On the 7th I entered the jungle and never came out. I wanted to find her,” says Ranoque. He estimates that he walked 30 kilometers a day, which is almost impossible for a Westerner, but is nonetheless common among tribal peoples living in jungle areas. First he looked for the Aaporis River basin, next to where the plane had crashed. He also offered Mother Nature cigarettes and brandy. He chewed powdered coca leaf to – it’s called Mambear – to establish a connection with the spirits. But the days passed and there was no trace of their children. A pain oppressed his chest.
Pedro Sánchez, the commander, was also desperate and went into the jungle himself on the 7th. In the undergrowth, he prayed an Lord’s Prayer with his men, and then, arms outstretched, said, “Oh, Mother Jungle, allow these humble mortals to find these children and let’s bring them home soon.” He trudged through the mud and tree roots and saw how difficult it was to move on the ground. He met the natives who had asked him to bring whiskey. Sánchez had ordered it to be bought at the supermarket, but now they told him that it was no longer necessary, the brandy was enough. The goblin was fed. Sánchez found his commandos tired after 30 days of searching, so ordered their relief. Private Flores went home.
The commander had already gone through very difficult times during this month of search. On May 18, they informed him that they had found a footprint and that it was new, not more than a day old. He believed then that the time had come. He moved more helicopters, planes and satellite images. “You can’t sleep tonight, you have to keep going for 24 hours,” he urged the soldiers. The reason? It was the most important hours, the golden ones, he says. He used all the resources at his disposal. But after so much trouble they found nothing. Sánchez couldn’t believe it, he didn’t know what was preventing them from finding her.
Gustavo Petro greets a nurse during a visit to the four indigenous children found alive. PRESIDENTIAL PRESS (AFP)
Another 18 days passed without the children reporting. 36 search days have been completed. The commander was desperate. He went to the chapel to pray and wait for signs. Nothing was revealed to him. He read the Bible to find a passage that would enlighten him, but also to no avail. “Give me a sign, my God,” he pleaded. All he received was silence, which he interpreted as a call to keep working and not to lose faith. To the natives the children were in the hands of a goblin, to him in those of Jesus Christ.
He didn’t know it then, but everything was about to become clear. Commander Cota, one of his local soldiers, called him urgently on the 9th. The natives had already handed over the children with the turtle on their backs.
“Wonder, wonder, wonder,” Cota said angrily.
It was the code word they had arranged for the moment of discovery.
“And how are the children?” asked Sanchez.
-Lively.
Subscribe here to the EL PAÍS newsletter on Colombia and receive all the latest information about the country.