National Geographic : 2010 Nov
• group of elders and asked what he could do to help the congregation. ey conferred, while Winter and Simon discussed the possibilities. e elders could ask for anything. A new build- ing. Musical instruments. Food. Medicine. Cash. Our pastor, Simon, is a smart man, they said. But he has never had a proper education as a pastor. Could you help him? Winter was stunned. ese people hardly had enough to eat, and they chose schooling? Over the next few years he personally paid for Simon to attend a theology school in Kampala, Uganda, taking the young man's word that he would re- turn to the relative bleakness of tiny Itti. And Winter redoubled his e orts for peace. ' in an SPLA bar- racks one night in 1991, Logocho had a realiza- tion. Yes, he thought. is is my purpose. He decided that he would become a pastor. Soon a er, a Protestant minister baptized him and asked if he'd like to choose a new name, a new identity. "Yes," Logocho said. "Simon." He put down his ri e, le the SPLA, and at- tended a school for refugees in Kenya, where he continued learning English. en he went to Bible school, and eventually he took a post at the far- ung church in Itti, where a balding Ameri- can named Roger walked in one Sunday and sat down in the dirt among the other congregants. e young pastor delivered a simple sermon that inspired one of the principal architects of what may become Africa's newest democracy. Winter's years of diplomatic wrangling cul- minated with the 2005 pact signed by the north and the south. e chaos and carnage of Sudan's history make it impossible to predict whether the treaty will hold through the 2011 vote on independence. But Winter---along with his U.S. colleagues and negotiators from Kenya, Britain, Norway, and elsewhere---brokered something in Sudan that once seemed impossible: peace. A peace that has held for ve years. recently in Itti. He en- joys no social standing, since he has no cows, and he looked misplaced in his eyeglasses and smooth-soled, cap-toe shoes. For the past three years he has earned income during the week do- ing community outreach for the Wildlife Conser- vation Society---a long way, in a sense, from the cattle camps and hunting parties of his peers. But the villagers waved to him, and they promised to Simon looked misplaced in his eyeglasses and smooth- soled, cap-toe shoes. But the villagers waved to him. "Big man!" they called. "I am not the big man," he said, laughing.