By: Ali Syarief
Amidst the dazzling lights of cities that never sleep, beneath the glow of lamps that consume the night, there exists a community that chooses a different kind of illumination—one not born of neon and electricity, but of the profound essence of life itself, whispered through the wind by their ancestors. They are the Baduy people, who, to the modern eye, may seem like remnants of a bygone era, yet in the wisdom of the universe, they are poetry that remains eternally relevant.
Modern science, in all its arrogance, often measures civilization through schooling, technology, and urbanization. Jean Piaget spoke of cognitive development, wherein humans progress from concrete to abstract thinking. But in the local wisdom of the Baduy, have they not already reached a higher state of consciousness? Without classrooms, they can read the clouds and the whisper of the wind, predicting seasonal changes with greater accuracy than digital forecasts. Without modern laboratories, they grasp ecology with a holistic awareness, maintaining the delicate balance between taking from and giving back to the earth.
Many label them primitive for rejecting electricity and technology, but is not their awareness of others’ rights brighter than mere streetlights? Is their lived happiness not more tangible than the restless pursuits of city dwellers, who chase endlessly without knowing what they seek? While the outside world constructs towering skyscrapers, they cultivate a life deeply rooted in harmony.
Modern science speaks of neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to adapt and evolve. But is not their serene lifestyle, free from urban stress, more effective in maintaining the equilibrium of happiness hormones than modern psychotherapy? Studies in evolutionary psychology have shown that a life close to nature enhances mental and physical well-being. The Baduy have lived by this truth for centuries—without the need for motivational seminars or mindfulness therapy.
They do not possess fertilizer factories or genetic engineering technology, yet their land remains fertile, producing enough to sustain themselves and share with others. They have no maternity clinics, yet their generations continue to thrive, sustaining an unbroken lineage without excessive medical intervention.
The Western educational paradigm, for all its merits, often overlooks one crucial element: wisdom that cannot be quantified by numbers and curricula. Aristotle once said that the ultimate purpose of humanity is eudaimonia—true happiness. And in all their perceived limitations, the Baduy have already achieved this in their own way.
It is time to open our eyes—not just to see, but to understand. That wisdom has many paths, that not all knowledge needs to be written on paper or taught in classrooms. True education is a journey of the soul, one that understands itself within the dance of the cosmos. Local wisdom is not merely a relic of the past but a lesson for the future. For in a world moving toward increasing complexity, perhaps simplicity is what will ultimately save us.
