Traveling through developing countries with just a pack on our backs has forced us to think about needs. Real needs.
When surrounded by poverty our lavish lives back home seem less and less fulfilling. The things in our cluttered apartments become meaningless. It’s just us and our backpacks in a place that no longer seems a world away. Life becomes something else – and it has nothing to do with buying the iPhone4 or a new pair of jeans.
It has become more about the effects of pesticides on cotton crops and the hardships of exploitative factory work. All so that the rest of us can consume. And throw out. And consume again. Over and over, until we realize that things will never truly fulfill us.
We have been fortunate to experience countries so rich in culture, so full of life, that we can’t seem to shake one repeating thought:
We don’t need all of that.
Even more, we can’t reason why the developing world should bear the brunt of our consumption. Environmentally. Economically. Personally. And that’s how our revolution began.