Bucket List: Borobudur

By Gunawan Kartapranata (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

When I first found out that I was going to Indonesia, I immediately thought, “That archipelago I learned about in 9^th grade – Cool!” But after my first stroke of high-school recall, I truthfully knew very little about this island nation. In fact, when I told my boss (Hi, Dr. Coffey!) at work the following day where I was headed and he mentioned something about Jakarta, I smiled and nodded – caught up in my own excitement – only to later ask myself, “What the heck is Jakarta?!” (It’s the capital of Indonesia.)

I don’t know if these are reflections on American education or my terrible memory, but knowing so little about Indonesia, I had a fairly non-existent bucket list of things I wanted to do here (beyond eat something new and see a volcano erupt, both of which I accomplished in my first week of training).

The upside of my general ignorance has been the pleasure of constantly allowing myself to be surprised, cobbling together a bucket list as I go along.

Stupas atop Borobudur.

Soon after arriving at site, Flores – with its mountains, beaches, and dragons – took the top spot on my list. Flores was closely followed by Yogyakarta – home of sultans and cultural heart of Java. My site is located fairly close to Yogya, and I have had a number of opportunities to go there, but somehow I always missed what is arguably the #1 attraction of the Yogyakarta area (technically located in Magelang): Borobudur Temple.

Peaceful Buddha.

School trips went to different Yogya destinations, plans fell through, and time slipped away. At one point I wondered if I would ever make it, but the visit of a fellow volunteer’s friend from America finally provided the perfect opportunity this past January!

Old fashioned selfie – I made it!

Borobudur temple is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and is frequently found on lists of places you should see before you die. I have been to other temples on Java and Bali, all memorable and unique in their own way, but Borobudur takes the crown for its sheer size and mass.

The 9^th century Buddhist temple is stacked in nine symmetrical layers to create a giant stupa. By walking around each layer in a clockwise direction, one symbolizes the ascent from Earth to Nirvana. Constructed completely from stone as a walk-through mandala, the lower levels feature carved reliefs depicting scenes from the Buddhist-Javanese narrative, while the upper layers are dotted with smaller stupas, each housing a Buddha.

Buddha chillin’ in a stupa.

With its flocks of tourists and students asking for pictures, the temple is no longer a peace-seekers paradise, but we were able to beat the majority of the crowds by splurging on the sunrise tour (entry before the main gates open is well worth waking up early and shelling out the extra cash).

Borobudur is as exquisite in its detail as impressive in its size, and I feel I found my own little piece of bucket list nirvana while watching the stones and their stories reveal themselves in the morning mist.

The Things We Know

After a “brief” hiatus, I’m back with some musings on the two years past, the four months to come, and the difficulty of saying goodbye. Get ready to delve deep. But for those inclined to lighter fare, keep a look-out for upcoming posts on what I’ve been checking off of my Indonesian Bucket List. Temples, volcanoes, sea turtles, and fire dances to come!

We all know a number of things, and many of those things are based on our personal experience. For example, I know that you should always double check dates when you order plane tickets online, that lavender will deter all manner of creatures from moving into your wardrobe (read: cats and spiders), and that you should never try to fit your car into a small parking space by hitting the gas and hoping for the best.

I also know that I hate saying goodbyes. As much as I love adventures and exciting new things, I dread closing chapters of my life – whether they be years or weekends spent with people I care for in places I’ve come to call home.

Four short months from today, I will be closing another chapter. I will be packing my bags and sleeping one last time in my village surrounded by rice paddies in the middle of Java. In so many ways I am ready to go. I’m ready to be reunited with my family, catch up with my friends, eat kale, and sip overpriced lattes. In so many ways it will be so good to go home.

But in many other, equally as important ways it will be heart-wrenching to barrel through the rice paddies one last time – to lift off into the air above these islands strewn across the Pacific and head back towards…who knows what?!

For all the “unknowns” I was afraid of on my flight coming here, there will be so many more “knows” that I will mourn the loss of as I drift back towards the homeland. There are people, places, sounds, sensations, and flavors that have transformed over these past two years from their strange-newness into a familiar-accompaniment of life in Indonesia.

We are what we know, for better or worse. I know the awkwardness of being stared at every time I walk out my front door. I know the shock of being screamed at in the street for no good reason (and the tarnished empowerment of sometimes screaming back). But I also know the sounds of glee that come from a flock of five year olds as they rush to “salim” me with their suspiciously damp and crusty hands every morning on my way to school. I know that every cup of sugary tea and every piece of double-fried tempeh becomes more delicious the longer I’m here. I know the beat of the busker’s drums as he and his pals jam out to dangdut in a crowded bus aisle. I know the smell of trash-burning, dust-swirling, and rice-boiling. I know the laughter of a nude-bathing grandma who calls out my name every day when I walk home from school. I know how the rain clouds roll in at 3pm as the banana leaves make rushing sounds in the gathering breeze.

All these things have become parts of me, fragments of the mosaic that makes up each one of our lives. These are the things that will haunt and comfort me when I think of Indonesia for years to come. And to these things that I know, I will never need to say goodbye.