Take a look in the mirror and see through glasses

In August 2009, I and the other 29 students from different faculties were sent by our university to Cikarang village, located few millimeters above the southern coast of Java island, if seen in map, for a month. This trip was actually a three credit program required for graduation eligibility.
I joined a security patrol team on Friday night a week after our arrival. Yet, I didn't anticipate that the gravels covering the entire village road were sharp enough to pierce through my thin soled sandals when we patrolled around the village. The pain was distinct but not strong enough to interrupt my laughter, which was getting louder when walked down a quite long slope. It was quite a cheerful security patrol, since everyone did a good job on joking, although our main task was to watch for suspicious activities around the village. The patrol was also humble. We were only equipped with sarongs to keep us warm and one unnecessary flashlight, as the moonlight was bright enough to lead us to a hut past a steep road after the slope, where we were going to have our midnight dinner.
Level with the bottom of the slope, were paddy fields, the source of our after-patrol menu. There was also a small pond, where we had previously caught a couple of fish to be barbequed. Salt was the only seasoning but the dinner on the bench in front of the hut was rich with modest tastes. The moisture of the rice was perfect so was the dryness of the fish. This delightful modesty was complemented with chilies and leaves from the trees among the bushes behind the hut just before the feast.
In the end, the patrol got me more than friendship. It has educated me with a picture of how a modest way of life represents self-sufficiency more than modernity does. They submit their needs to nature; keeping them away from the indulgence of desire that modernity has been advertising. Since then, I've been wondering why we keep inventing new needs and ways to satisfy them if living in modesty is enough.