Chapter 16-17↵
Southern Sudan, 2009↵
After the excitement of seeing that first spray of water, the villagers went back to work. Several men gathered in front of Nya's house. They had tools with them, hoes and spades and scythes.↵
Her father went out to meet them. The men walked together to a spot beyond the second big tree and began clearing the land.↵
Nya watched them for a few moments. Her father saw her ana waved. She put the plastic can down and ran over to him.↵
"Papa, what are you doing?"↵
"Clearing the land here. Getting ready to build."↵
"To build what?"↵
Nya's father smiled. "Can't you guess?"↵
"A house? Nya guessed.Or a barn?"↵
Her father shook his head. Something better, he said. "A school."↵
Nya's eyes widened. The nearest school was half a day's walk from their home. Nya knew this because Dep had wanted to go there. But it was too far.↵
"A school?" she echoed.↵
"Yes," he replied. "With the well here, no one will have to go to the pond anymore. So all the children will be able to go to school."↵
Nya stared at her father. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. When at last she was able to speak, it was only in a whisper. All the children, "Papa? The girls, too?" Her father's smile grew broader. "Yes, Nya. Girls, too, he said. Now, go and fetch water for us." And he returned to his work scything the long grass.↵
Nya went back and picked up the plastic can. She felt as if she were flying.↵
School! She would learn to read and write!

Rochester, New York, 1996-2003↵
Salva had been in Rochester for nearly a month and still had not seen a single dirt road. Unlike southern Sudan, it seemed that here in America every road was paved. At times, the cars whizzed by so fast, he was amazed that anyone on foot could cross safely. His new father, Chris, told him that dirt roads did exist out in the countryside, but there were none in Salvas new neighborhood.↵
All the buildings had electricity. There were white people everywhere. Snow fell from the sky for hours at a time and then stayed on the ground for days. Sometimes it would start to melt during the day, but before it all disappeared, more snow would fall. Salva's new mother, Louise, told him it would probably be April-three more months-before the snow went away completely.↵
The first several weeks of Salva's new life were so bewildering that he was grateful for his studies. His lessons, especially English, gave him something to concentrate on, a way to block out the confusion for an hour or two at a time.↵
His new family helped, too. All of them were kind to him, patiently explaining the millions of things he had to learn.

Sometimes he wondered if he would ever be able to speak and read English well. But slowly, with hours of hard work over the months and years, his English im-proved. Remembering Michael, Salva also joined a volleyball team. It was fun playing volleyball, just as it had been at the camp. Setting and spiking the ball were the same in any language.↵
Salva had been in Rochester for more than six years now.↵
He was going to college and had decided to study business. He had a vague idea that he would like to return to Sudan someday, to help the people who lived there.

One evening at the end of a long day of study, Salva sat down at the family computer and opened his e-mail. He was surprised to see a message from a cousin of his-someone he barely knew. The cousin was working for a relief agency in Zimbabwe.↵
Salva clicked open the message. His eyes read the words, but at first his brain could not comprehend them.↵
"...United Nations clinic... your father... stomach surgery.."↵
Salva read the words again and again. Then he jumped to his feet and ran through the house to find Chris and Louise.↵
"My father!" he shouted. "They have found my father!"↵
After several exchanges of e-mails, Salva learned that the cousin had not actually seen or spoken to his father. The clinic where his father was recovering was in a remote part of southern Sudan. There was no telephone or mail service-no way of communicating with the clinic staff.↵
The staff kept lists of all the patients they treated. These lists were submitted to the United Nations' aid agencies. Salva's cousin worked for one of the agencies, and he had seen the name of Salvas father on a list.↵
Salva immediately began planning to travel to Sudan. But with the war still raging, it was very difficult to make the arrangements. He had to get permits, fill out dozens of forms, and organize plane flights and car transport in a region where there were no airports or roads.↵
Salva, and Chris and Louise as well, spent hours on the phone to various agencies and offices. It took not days or weeks but months before all the plans were in place. And there was no way to get a message to the hospital. At times, Salva felt almost frantic at the delays and frustrations.↵
'What if my father leaves the hospital without telling anyone where he is going? What if I get there too late? I will never be able to find him again....'↵
At last, all the forms were filled out, and all the paperwork was in order. Salva flew in a jet to New York City, another one to Amsterdam, and a third to Kampala in Uganda. In Kampala, it took him two days to get through customs and immigration before he could board a smaller plane to go to Juba, in southern Sudan. Then he rode in a jeep on dusty dirt roads into the bush.↵
How familiar everything was and yet how different! The unpaved roads, the scrubby bushes and trees, the huts roofed with sticks bound together-everything was just as Salva remembered it, as if he had left only yesterday. At the same time, the memories of his life in Sudan were very distant. How could memories feel so close and so far away at the same time?↵
After many hours of jolting and bumping along the roads in the jeep-after nearly a week of exhausting travel-Salva entered the shanty that served as a recovery room at the makeshift hospital. A white woman stood to greet him.↵
"Hello," he said. "I am looking for a patient named Mawien Dut Ariik."

Chapter 17_Sudan and Rochester, New York, 2003-2007↵
Salva stood at the foot of one of the beds in the crowded clinic.↵
"Hello" he said. "Hello," the patient replied politely.↵
"I have come to visit you" Salva said.↵
"To visit me?" The man frowned. "But who are you?"↵
"You are Mawien Dut Arik, aren't you?"↵
"Yes, that is my name."↵
Salva smiled, his insides trembling. Even though his father looked older now, Salva had recognized him right away. But it was as if his eyes needed help from his ears-he needed to hear his father's words to believe he was real.↵
"I am your son. I am Salva."↵
The man looked at Salva and shook his head. "No" he said. "It is not possible."↵
"Yes", Salva said. "It's me, Father." He moved to the side of the bed↵
Mawien Dut reached out and touched the arm of this tall stranger beside him. "Salva?" he whispered. "Can it really be you?"↵
Salva waited. Mawien Dut stared for a long moment.↵
Then he cried out, "Salva! My son, my son!"↵
His body shaking with sobs of joy, he reached up to hug Salva tightly.↵
It had been almost nineteen years since they had last seen each other.↵
Mawien Dut sprinkled water on his son's head, the Dinka way of blessing someone who was lost and is found again.↵
"Everyone was sure you were dead", Mawien Dut said. "The village wanted to kill a cow for you."↵
That was how Salva's people mourned the death of a loved one.↵
"I would not let them", his father said. "I never gave up hope that you were still alive somewhere."↵
"And... and my mother?" Salva asked, barely daring to hope.↵
His father smiled. "She is back in the village."↵
Salva wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. "I must see her!"↵
But his father shook his head. "There is still war near Loun-Arik, my son. If you went there, both sides would try to force you to fight with them. You must not go."↵
There was so much more to talk about. His father told Salva that his sisters were with his mother. But of his three brothers, only Ring had survived the war. Artik, the oldest, and Kuol, the youngest, were both dead.↵
'Little Kuol...' Salva closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to picture his brothers through a haze of time and grief.↵
He learned more about his father's illness. Years of drinking contaminated water had left Mawien Dut's entire digestive system riddled with guinea worms. Sick and weak, he had walked almost three hundred miles to come to this clinic, and was barely alive by the time he finally arrived.↵
Salva and his father had several days together. But all too soon, it was time for Salva to return to America. His father would be leaving the clinic shortly as well. The surgery he had undergone had been successful, and he would soon be strong enough to make the long walk home.↵
"I will come to the village" Salva promised, "as soon as it is safe."↵
"We will be there waiting for you," his father promised in turn.↵
Salva pressed his face tightly to his father's as they hugged goodbye, their tears flowing and blending together.↵
On the plane back to the United States, Salva replayed in his mind every moment of his visit with his father. He felt again the coolness on his brow when his father had sprinkled the water blessing on him.↵
And an idea came to him-an idea of what he might be able to do to help the people of Sudan.↵
Back in Rochester, Salva began working on his idea. There were, it seemed, a million problems to be solved. He needed a lot of help.↵
Salva had to raise money for the project. And there was only one way to do this: He would have to talk to people and ask them to give money.↵
The first time Salva spoke in front of an audience was in a school cafeteria. About a hundred people had come to hear him.↵
He knew that his English was still not very good.↵
But he had to do it.↵
Salva spoke into the microphone.↵
"Hello, I am here to talk to you about a project for southern Sudan."↵
A year passed, then two... then three. Salva spoke to hundreds of people-in churches, at civic organizations, in schools. Would he ever be able to turn his idea into reality? Whenever he found himself losing hope, Salva would take a deep breath and think of his uncle's words.↵
A step at a time.↵
'One problem at a time-just figure out this one problem.'↵
Day by day, solving one problem at a time, Salva moved toward his goal.