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It's not that I didn't believe James Tooley's books and articles asserting that an astonishing number of poor children in developing countries are being decently (and sometimes superbly) educated by a little-noticed army of low-budget private schools that receive no government support and, indeed, are paid for by those kids' own parents.

But it hadn't really sunk into my consciousness, perhaps because others scoffed at these claims. Big "foreign aid" and education funders generally ignored this entire education sector, journalists and analysts paid it scant heed and governments, perhaps embarrassed by their own failure to do right by these youngsters, acted as if it weren't really happening.

Now, however, I've seen examples of this phenomenon with my own eyes in the slums of Hyderabad, India, where Tooley (a British education scholar on leave from the University of Newcastle) is both learning even more about it and trying to strengthen it via the "Aristotle" project he leads with backing from a New Zealand-born, Singapore-based tycoon.

I confess: I was impressed--and slightly sheepish, too, considering I've lived and traveled in India and other "third world" countries over many years and worked in the education field forever. Yet, until now I had allowed my gaze to pass over signs of the presence of hundreds of these schools without really noticing them, much less seeking to understand how they work.

In America my efforts to widen education options and promote school choice for poor kids, like the efforts of most U.S. reformers, have always assumed that, at day's end, the government must pay for this. Perhaps that's true in the Western world, perhaps it's not. But elsewhere on the planet, I can now attest, poor families are paying for it themselves and education entrepreneurs are responding to their demand (and their governments' failure) by starting, managing and growing such schools.

Most of them occupy sketchy facilities, sans playgrounds, labs, libraries and fancy technology. Many teachers are themselves just high-school graduates. The kids bring their own lunches. Parents provide transportation and go to the bazaar for textbooks and uniforms. Sports and extracurricular activities are scarce to nonexistent. Neither schools nor families have any money to spare.

But teaching and learning are occurring in those cramped and sometimes ill-lit classrooms. Eager youngsters, prodded by determined parents, are drinking in whatever knowledge and skills their books and teachers can provide. And while besting nearby government schools on state tests is no high accolade in places like Andhra Pradesh, most of these private schools are doing that at astonishingly low costs.

What can your genome tell you about yourself?

High school genetics taught me a thing or two: I would never have red-headed children, and that growth spurt I hoped would eventually happen was, at best, a remote possibility.

But it turns out our DNA can tell us more than just our hair color or height. A year and a half ago, my family took part in the Genographic Project, a nonprofit collaboration between National Geographic and IBM (nyse: IBM - news - people ), aiming to discover the migratory patterns of human groups out of Africa. My cousin volunteered her genetic data, swiped her cheek with a cotton swab and sent it off to a lab for DNA analysis. I already knew my immediate ancestors were Roman Catholics from Spain. But it turned out they took a circuitous route to the Iberian Peninsula: from Eastern Europe to Scandinavia to probably France before settling near Barcelona.

Science has evolved rapidly since the Genographic Project launched in 2005. Now, you can simply spit into a vial and send it off to several genetic-testing start-ups, such as 23andme and the nonprofit Personal Genome Project. These companies will tell you some interesting stuff--not just the migratory patterns of your ancestors but your predispositions for certain diseases or why you don't like Brussels sprouts (a sliver of DNA that allows you to taste a bitter compound in vegetables).

"For science and individual health and identity, I think we're in a key time," says Mary Sue Kelly, a 63-year-old retired psychiatrist who has had her DNA analyzed by the Genographic Project and Navigenics, a disease-focused genetic-testing start-up. "I've made the analogy of when the first mirror was seen--that must have flipped out a whole bunch of people for a long time, or when the first camera came. I think this is as illuminating as that--the first time you saw yourself and just 'Oh my word, that's what I look like?' "

My results from the Genographic Project didn't quite rock my world, but they were surprising. "Guess what we are," my aunt exclaimed when the results came in. I had always thought, due to my grandmother's darker complexion, that I was descended from Arabs who had come to Spain during the expansion of the Ottoman Empire. But I was wrong. "We're Jewish," my aunt said, as my grandmother shook her head incredulously in the seat across from us. "Eastern European Ashkenazi Jews." I briefly wondered if this explained my attraction for Jewish men, shrugged and went back to my book.

I recently, however, decided to dig a little deeper. A search on Ashkenazi Jews brings up some fascinating details--we're really smart, and we were heavily involved in the ostrich-feather trade. But Ashkenazi Jews are also susceptible to a host of scary-sounding genetic diseases, such as Fanconi anemia--associated with short stature (check); bone marrow failure (yikes, I hope not); a predisposition to leukemia and other cancers (my mother had cancer); and Cystic Fibrosis.

Since the Genographic Project is an anthropological study, it doesn't tell me what chance I have of developing any of these diseases. But other genetic-testing companies can, at least to some extent.

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After nearly four years as a management consultant at such firms as Deloitte Consulting and Booz Allen Hamilton, Ari Perlman was itching to try his hand at investment banking. So this summer the 26-year-old MBA student at the University of Virginia's Darden School of Business signed on with Lehman Brothers for an internship. Then all hell broke loose. With the economy unraveling and much of Wall Street seemingly on the brink of collapse, Lehman slashed bonuses for interns. And by the time Perlman returned to campus, the company had filed for bankruptcy. Lehman's last check for Perlman's travel expenses? Bounced. An e-mail explained that a new check would be in the mail. Eventually. "I haven't heard anything from them since," says Perlman, who's now looking for a consulting job. "And frankly, I am not too hopeful."

On the nation's B-school campuses, hope used to spring eternal. No more. Students like Perlman are downsizing their expectations, rejiggering career plans, and settling for less as the cascading effects of the global financial crisis start to be felt at MBA programs around the country. With companies pulling back on second-year recruiting and competition for the few remaining finance jobs becoming fierce, students are entering what surely is the toughest MBA job market since the dot-com bust. "I think next fall is going to be very, very difficult," says George G. Daly, dean of Georgetown University's McDonough School of Business. "This is terra incognita."

Despite the gloomy outlook for current students, applications to B-schools are on the upswing, driven largely by applicants who have been laid off or are otherwise hoping to ride out the recession. With more applicants to choose from, admissions officers can be pickier, making 2009 a difficult year to land a slot at a top B-school. Meanwhile, professors and deans are attempting to make sense of the financial crisis in the classroom, offering new electives and town-hall-style meetings on the meltdown, altering syllabi, and writing new case studies based on recent market-churning events. Risk management, until recently an unpopular elective, is expected to become a more important part of many B-schools' curriculums in three to five years, a trend that Robert Meyer, co-director of the Risk Management & Decision Processes Center at the University of Pennsylvania's Wharton School, calls "potentially transformational."

For current students, though, the only concern is finding a job—and nowhere is that dream receding faster than on Wall Street. Brian Mirochnik, 26, an MBA student at the University of Rochester's Simon Graduate School of Business, is facing that reality head-on as he looks for jobs in the investment banking field. He didn't receive a job offer from UBS (UBS) after his summer internship and now is scrambling to find a position, a search he fears could easily stretch into the spring. "Banks are telling me they are going through their own layoffs and don't know when they are going to start hiring again," says Mirochnik, who has given up on the big Wall Street firms and is looking exclusively at boutique investment firms and mid-market banks. "A lot of the factors affecting my future employment are just out of my hands."

Second-year students such as Mirochnik without job offers appear to be in the most precarious position. According to a survey by the umbrella group MBA Career Services Council, about 70% of the 77 schools surveyed said they saw a downturn in full-time recruiting opportunities in financial services in October. Meanwhile, about half of the schools said overall full-time job postings and on-campus recruiting this fall was either flat or down 5% during the same period, with some indicating it has fallen as much as 10%.

In the coming year, the job market for MBAs may begin to bear a striking similarity to the period following the dot-com bust when some banks and consulting firms rescinded or renegotiated job offers they had extended to second-year students. That hasn't happened this time around—yet.

PETIONVILLE, Haiti (CNN) -- Authorities have detained the owner of a Haitian school that collapsed, killing at least 84 students. Meanwhile, rescue workers continue to comb through the rubble in search of survivors.

Fortin Augustin, who owns College La Promesse Evangelique in Petionville, surrendered to authorities on Saturday, police spokesman Garry Desrosier told The Associated Press.

Desrosier said Augustin has not been charged. He is currently being detained at a police station near Port-au-Prince.

As many as 700 children were on the school grounds, celebrating the school's birthday when the building collapsed about 10 a.m. Friday ET, said Abel Nazaire, deputy coordinator of Risk and Disaster Management in Port-au-Prince.

By Saturday night, 150 people had been injured, but many more remained missing, Nazaire said.

Officials said it has not been easy to determine how many people were inside the building at the time of the collapse. Watch CNN reporter describe the scene »

"Yesterday (Friday), there was a special event at the school, so there were not only pupils, but family members and friends who were invited," said Rob Drouen, a spokesman for the International Committee of the Red Cross. "It's very difficult to say how many people were in the school."

Most of the students at the school ranged in age from 10 to 20, officials said, but some are younger. Haitian press reports said kindergarten, primary and secondary students attended the school.

Amelia Shaw, a journalist with United Nations TV who visited the scene, said the second floor of the building crumbled onto the first. Haitian President Rene Preval has said the structure of the three-story school building was "really weak" and called for a review of construction guidelines.

International aid crews continue to sift through the wreckage in search of survivors.

Earlier Saturday, rescue crews pulled out several children alive, prompting cheers and reviving hope among parents. Since then, there had been no signs of life. Watch how search for survivors can be painful »

Rescuers discovered the bodies of 20 children and their teacher in a classroom.

"Throughout history, there's been people found 48, 72 hours later -- still alive, in good shape," said Michael Istvan of the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), one of several agencies helping with the recovery effort.

Rescue workers punched holes in the concrete and sent down cameras looking for signs of life. A crane lifted chunks of concrete, while dogs were brought in to help with the recovery effort.

Officials said one of their biggest concerns is the vibrations from the power generators. They said too much vibration can shake loose pieces of concrete on the damaged hillside structure, sending them tumbling down and causing more casualties.