Education Will Help Africa??

Education in Africa is nothing short of horrible. Most children can’t even afford education
because schools in Africa are mostly private. But when they can afford education they are
forced to learn in buildings of horrible condition and they learn from books that have been
outdated for years if not decades. The horrible state of a virtually no existent public school
system in Africa is what has left the continent so underdeveloped. The key to solving the crisis
in Africa is to educate the upcoming generation in a way that will make them want to change the
situation. Unfortunately this is very hard with a political system as corrupt as it is in Africa. Even
with these obstacles politicians must devote as much resources as they can towards developing
a good public education system.

Hundreds of non-profit organizations have been created for the sole purpose of educating
underprivileged youth in Africa, these organizations have achieved their purpose by building
better schools and providing supplies and text books needed for a proper education, but this
does not solve the problem! What happens when the supplies run out? What happens when the
schools decay over time? Nothing. Most non-profit organizations do not have enough
resources or a big enough work-force to meet demand and they do not know where the money is
needed most. The leaders of African countries must understand and stop relying on private aid
and start focusing on developing a more permanent solution.

Establishing an education system in countries plagued with corruption is no easy feat. Enlisting
the help of first world foreign countries, the United Nations or even a big charitable organization
such as UNESCO and entrusting them with the finances of the project will minimize the loss of
money from corruption and maximize the “bang for the buck”.

Creating a good system like this could take years and the solution of the problems in Africa
won’t be quick, but at the moment simply changing the mindset of the next generation of thinkers
and inventors in Africa seems like a good idea. Educating them will empower them to change
their countries towards the better, but first big pushes must be made to develop a public
education system.

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So in the past week I’ve been pretty lazy and written nothing… here’s a short summary:

I slept quite a bit, the usual midnight ramblings about my imaginary friend chicken included.

Played pool with some girls from the UK and got my ass whopped with cue sticks.

Played pingpong with the leader of the democratic party of Guatemala… (No Biggy).

Was served a Cuba Libre by a later innocent looking bartender.

Spent the equivalent of five hours bargaining for a hammock, I finally bought it for nine dollars…turns out the hammock I bought was for babies and I can fit my foot in it.

Went to a upscale restaurant and managed to ruin a very fancy looking table cloth after I spewed out a mouth full of lobster when my dad told me it’s my job to clean the septic tank in our house when we get back from Guatemala…

To sum it up….I hope I had a rather un-embarrassing week.

Il try to write a blog post about our plane flight home….(If I’m not to lazy:/)

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July 23rd

I wake up, check my shoe for microscopic spiders and jump out of our doorless treehouse. I eat my breakfast of pancakes and flies all the while beating myself on the head to throw my attention elsewhere.

After breakfast we set of to the famous pools of Semuc Champey. We hike about three grouse grinds before we make it to the pools, but it is very rewarding… I drool in anticipation as we get closer and closer to the pools. I sigh a breath of relief as I finally stand in my bathing suit by the edge of the pool. I preform a macho Olympic dive and silently rejoice underwater. My underwater party is ruined as I crash face first into a rock and let out a silent scream of agony in a forest of bubbles. I surface, try to convert my grimace of pain into a comical grin and run away to tend to my face. My dad walks up to me, in the bushes, and tells me I look like an illiterate chicken with a bad case of acne.

We go back with our group to the hotel. I let out a strangled cry of disbelief when we take a route about forty times shorter the the “grouse grind” route we took earlier. It takes us five minuets to get back to the hotel. Everybody else looks normal and are talking about a salamander they saw on the way hear. Turns out I’m the only person that took the “mountain goat” path.

Back at the hotel I enjoy my lunch of schnitzels and entertain my self as people faint at the sight of my now un-proportional face. After lunch we set out to the watery caves of doom.

We arrive at a tiny hut, the reception, and our shoes are instantly whisked away by a very short, scuttling, chubby grandpa in a cowboy hat. He explains that he doesn’t want us to lose our shoes in the water. Ya right, he just wants my designer crocs.

I lose the battle over custody of my shoes and sulk of to the cave, two minutes behind the main group. I’m able to catch up to the group just as they are receiving miniature candles that will be our life line in a water filled cave. I walk down into the dark, church candle in hand. Suddenly I let out a childish shriek as I step into cool water, the owner of the place looks at me guiltily and says he tries his hardest to heat the water.

Five minuets later we arrive at a waterfall, I assume this is the end of the trip. But no, I am forced to climb the water fall, clinging to a fishing line. At the top of the waterfall I can barely breath as water pounds at my face, I gawp like a fish on dry land and I keep on hearing the guide at the top of the waterfall yelling at me that I’m a useless sack of potatoes and that I need to grab on to his hand. I never find his hand, but my dad saves the day by giving my a kick in the arse which propelles me way over the waterfall, I land with a painful thud.

Painfully rubbing my backside we continue along the caves. We finally arrive at the end of the caves where we are offered to jump of a four meter cliff into a one by one meter pool of water. I start climbing, my dad taunting me and telling me not to fall down, this doesn’t work as I topple backwards, headfirst into the water with a little yelp. I emerge out of the pool much wiser and wait as the guide gets ready to jump. He throws his flash light to me and cannon balls awfully close to the wall. Five minuets later the guide still hasn’t emerged and there have been no sign of bubbles. I assume him dead and start panicking like a headless chicken, that’s when an evil laugh, just barely audible, sounds behind me. I turn around and see our guide sitting in a hole, half of his body submerged in water. Turns out there was a hole from the main pool to a smaller pool and the guides pranks have been the subject of four heart attacks and nine hospitalizations.

At the hotel we spend three hours playing Jimmy Rummy with fellow cave-goers, betting our newly acquired pet salamanders and in one case a bright pink, neon scorpion. After five cokes I run of to the washroom where I fall asleep on the toilet seat.

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Cafe Barista and weird Antigua party

Sitting in cafe “Barista” and thinking why the hell in the central park they are playing old 80’s American music for the anniversary of Antigua….I guess it just another third world country trying to get on the band wagon of hip, American music….unfortunately they are about thirty years behind. It’s like duck syndrome- they are perfectly serene looking above water but are frantically kicking their tiny legs below the surface to stay alive…

Anyways the iced tea here is pretty good…thinking I should open a “Barista” in Canada…by the way sorry I only posted that terrifyingly short post about a bus ride…bare with me, and I’m gonna try really hard to get the weekend up by tomorrow…kbye

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July 22nd

I’m not gonna bore you with the usual story of our nine hour bus ride to Chumuk Champey, me puking on people or about me saying very embarrassing things in my sleep…..I’m just gonna say it was a long sweaty bus ride to the middle of nowhere and that we managed to squash a chicken, I lost my shoe and looked like a mental patient at the end of it all…

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A six hour bus ride later my bladders about to burst and I look like I’m going through a midlife crisis…anyways I’m in Coban and am currently swinging in an awesome hammock….so peace


Dead man found

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Since I always have scissors with me and I was super bored in class I made a face…so ya


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Hey, so we are going to be leaving for the weekend to explore some random caves and go tubing….since I’m a time traveler I traveled into the future and this is what I saw….


Allrighty I shall be righting a couple big posts on Monday cuz I can’t take the iPad….but I will be uploading photos and little stories…….now I suggest you go munch on your pillows.

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July 20th

I wake up and brush my teeth with Guatemalan tooth paste made from fish oils, while trying not to swallow my toothbrush from horrendous gagging. My dad gives me a weird look… he has fish flavored powder in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Looking accusingly at me he turns his back to my face and empties the powder in his glass. I give an involuntary shudder and manage to shudder spit all over the mirror. I clean up and go to breakfast.

In the middle of some very rubbery, green colored scrambled egg it suddenly feels like my stomach is being eaten from the inside by a carnivorous chicken. I double over in pain and grab hold of my stomach. My hands never reach my stomach as my head smashes into the table on the way down. My instincts kick in and tell me I should get my face out of my plate as fast as possible. Not thinking I oblige. I snap my body up off of the table, being the pro I am I manage to tip my chair backwards and land spread eagle on the cold tile floor, all my glory exposed.

I jump up, give a ineligible Squeak that should have meant I’m fine and run of to my room. I hear my dad apologizing for my behavior like a professional.

In my room I wash my face, cry into a paper bag, wash my face again, quietly sneak out the back door and go to school.

I manage to convince my teacher to play scrabble in Spanish with a couple other students. Not finding any words I ask my teacher to help me, after ummming and humming for a while she increases my vocabulary significantly. I now know the words for hickey, male prostitute, dumb ass and can say ” Did a male prostitute give you a hickey, dumb ass?”. My teacher told me this is the first time she has been proud of me.

After classes a bunch of students decided to go to a macadamia nut farm, like a lap dog I tagged along, my dad didn’t go…instead he ate away at his keyboard.

At the farm everybody was offered helmets for protection, I declined. Karma happily used this opportunity to dump four macadamia nuts on my face, I swear I saw a cloud wink at me. My face bruised, we move on. I look like a clown with make-up.

Paining I hand over sixty quetzals for a black box of nuts the size of a shoe and try not to slobber all over it. At our house I flip up the toilet seat, sit down with a grunt, lovingly take the box out of my pocket and gingerly open it…it’s empty. Karma’s a —–.

Destroyed, I cry myself to sleep. I dream that the world is a huge macadamia nut.

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Purple cow

Random thoughts that invaded my head during class today…

At our school they have these huge flat tacos…they look distinctly like they have been processed by a skitsofrantic grandpa who’s a very good cook.

Here they worship beer (it’s called “Gallo”)…If everybody in Canada and the US worshipped beer we would be cocaine addicts.

You can buy a hundred fire crackers here for under two dollars….crap I should import this stuff.

The police managed to accidentally kill the equivalent of Justin Beiber in Guatemala…..nice

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