The Long Trip Home: Borobudur, Java, Indonesia

Landscapes

Ghana on Two Bribes a Day new!
by John Liebhardt

Panama
by David Sasso

Images of Peru
by Gianluca Frinchillucci

Classical Greece
by Catherine Skrzypinski

Cityscapes

Images of Italy: Genova new!
by Jackie Goyette

Rome
by Paul Goyette

The Bejing Bicycle Race
by Nicholas Hogg

Freaks and Franks of Rembrandtville
by Lyn Fox

Rome, Finally!
by Eric McElroy

Tangible Discoveries
by Jackie Goyette

return to main
Landscapes/Cityscapes page

Borobudur, Java, Indonesia
by Anna Stewart

As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to climb it. I had to take the pilgrims path around and around the nine levels to the top of Borobudur Temple. The sun rose behind Mount Merapi, an active volcano in central Java. The day's auto fumes and incense smoke had not yet filled the air. Tendrils of placid dawn light reached into the 400 Buddhas in niches along the terraces and another 72 in stupas on the top three levels. The stonework is astonishing.

Walking clockwise, as is proper for all Buddhist monuments, the 5 km journey can take hours, days or lifetimes depending on one's spirituality. All along the six square terraces that demand the pilgrim slow down and pay attention, stone reliefs of Buddhist doctrine as well as Javanese life are depicted.

Borobudur Temple, originally built between 775 and 850 A.D., is the largest Buddhist structure in the southern hemisphere and one of the biggest in all of Southeast Asia. Borobudur is designed in the shape of a massive tantric mandala. It depicts the Buddhist vision of the cosmos starting with the daily world on the bottom and spiraling up to the realm of nirvana.

Images of elephants, kings, warriors and dancing girls lead me up the terraces. I've always liked Buddhism; it allows me to walk the pilgrims path without knowing the teachings. I don't feel as much a stranger as I do in a Hindu temple with their wrathful gods passing judgment. Here, I am welcome to meditate on my own beliefs.

The upper three circular levels are a dizzying spiral of Buddhas sitting in meditation inside their lotus-like stupas. Serenely, they greet the sun daily. Silently, they ask for nothing. Even when Mount Merapi spewed forth her ash and buried the site for almost 900 years, I can imagine the Buddhas still peacefully meditating.

I've always liked Buddhism; it allows me to walk the pilgrims path without knowing the teachings. I don't feel as much a stranger as I do in a Hindu temple with their wrathful gods passing judgment. Here, I am welcome to meditate on my own beliefs.

Tourist buses unloaded their camera-wielding chatty groups after breakfast and they begin their ascent on Borobudur. Four staircases provide quick access to the top for those who want only the view, not the journey. But even the masses can't ruin my morning mediation.

I realize I am at the top when I look into a huge, empty stupa. The unaware might think the statue was taken—as many were by the Dutch in the 1890s. But the emptiness represents the nothingness of nirvana. With no face, each disciple can form his or her own image. It is a matter of faith.

Borobudur was finally restored in 1973 with 700 men working six days a week for 10 years—cleaning, repairing and re-assembling 1,300,232 stone blocks. I hope they were Buddhists, making each stone a meditation practice.

In a country that is 90% Muslim, it seems odd to dedicate so many resources to a Buddhist temple, but in Java that's how things are done. Just a few miles away is another incredible temple complex, Pramadan, devoted to Hinduism. While Allah reigns supreme, the people appreciate the myths and art of other religions that have shaped their nation.

In Yogyakarta, the city near Borobudur, the Indonesian arts of dance, gamelan music, batik and wayang kulit, shadow puppets are still honorably practiced. The heart of Yogya (pronounced with a J) is the huge walled palace of the sultans. The kraton, or palace, houses over 25,000 people, including artisans, musicians and dancers. Really a city within a city, visitors can wander around the labyrinth of halls, courtyards, and pavilions protected from the hot sun by covered walkways. Men in traditional batik dress with spiritual daggers called kris, tucked in back saunter and sit, adding to the feeling of being in another time and place.

In the center of the kraton is the incredible reception hall called the Golden Pavilion. Under columns of carved teak and intricate carvings around the roof, a gamelan orchestra strikes up its gongs, xylophones, flutes and other percussion instruments. Mesmerizing, the music seems to have no beginning, middle or end. It just keeps repeating beats and refrains. Gamelan accompanies all dance performances and wayang shows. It's easy to be swept up into its timelessness. I am brought back to my pilgrims walk at Borobudur as the music induces a trance state. A gamelan orchestra can range from just a few to 40 pieces. Even just one saron, the xylophone, can invoke the magic.

Central Java's spiritual seeds have grown into a beautiful rich harvest. All around are the equally rich fields of rice, coffee, tea, sugar cane and cocoa. Eruptions from 20 volcanoes all along Java's spine have created some of the most productive dirt in the world. With consistent temperatures throughout the year, some farmers can manage three rice harvests a year without depleting the soil. Over 25 percent of the land in Java is wet rice farms, with some fields in continuous cultivation for the past 2,000 years.

With 120 million people living in less than 80,000 square miles, Java is one of the most densely populated regions of the world. Until recently, they have made it work more or less by crowding into the cities and leaving the land for food production. But other forces, such as the rising population and the influence of Western values are taking their toll, thus making the delicate balance more difficult.

It may be a while before the economy stabilizes and the democratic movement takes hold in Indonesia. But whatever happens, Borobudur, Pramadan and the palace will remain magnificent symbols of peace and harmony. Gamelan orchestras will continue to imbue dances and wayangs with their mesmerizing music. Old women will bend over cloth with hot wax designing batik fabrics. Young men will try to convince tourists to come to their gallery sale. And pilgrims like me will walk around Borobudur, hoping to experience some of the nirvana waiting in emptiness at the top.

Anna Stewart has published over 200 travel and parenting articles, essays, and reviews. She weaves words and family from Boulder, CO.