DAY FOUR, part 3: Borobudur, etc.

Borobudur is about an hour northwest of Jogjakarta. Along the way, Lingga taught us lots about the history of Indonesia, with special attention paid to religious history. She tried her best to use the van's microphone system, but it wouldn't cooperate. It messed up in the most frustrating way, too: instead of breaking completely, which would have forced Lingga to just talk in her normal voice, it would fade in and fade out. We thus all had to suffer as our ears adjusted to the softness of her regular voice, then were blasted by the suddenly-functional microphone, only to be unable to hear her again as it cut back out.

Before reaching Borobudur proper, we stopped at Mendut, a smaller temple related to the Borobudur complex. Lingga took us around the outside of the temple, showing us the many reliefs carved in the walls and balustrades. She gave a brief explanation of the story of Siddartha, before taking us inside the temple. At the center is a statue of the Sakyamuni Buddha. On either side of him are two statues. I forgot to write down what Lingga told us about them, but it had something to do with the two being Siddartha's closest companions. There was a story about the first one, who was virtuous, and the second one, who was a criminal, and the conflict that arose when the first one objected to the favor Siddartha showed the criminal. That's as far as my memory can take me. Searching online, I've found differing sources that name the two statues as Vajrapani, Avalokitesvara, or Maitreya Buddha. Regardless, the statues are fascinating.

On the way out of Mendut--before taking this picture--Lingga pointed out the huge tree we passed on our way in. She explained that it was a descendant of the Bodhi tree, which according to Buddhist mythology is the tree Siddartha Gautama was sitting and meditating under when he achieved enlightenment (called bodhi in Pali and Sanskrit).

We went the last twenty minutes or so to Borobudur. As with Prambanan, care of Borobudur has been entrusted to a private company. Just like Prambanan, there is an extensive market area outside the entrance. The merchants here weren't as aggressive to me, which might have been because I followed to the letter Lingga's advice about politely thanking them and moving on. We paid our money (about $10, I think) and went on in, hearing the explanation of the site from Lingga.

Borobudur was completed by around A.D. 832. It's the largest Buddhist monument in the world, and the single biggest tourist attraction in Indonesia. It is built as one large stupa, which is a Sanskrit word meaning "heap," indicative of the shape. Viewed from overhead, the complex has the shape of a mandala, an important part of Buddhist cosmology. The complex is roughly a square 118 meters long on each side. There are nine platforms at different levels, making the temple look vaguely similar in shape to a pyramid like Chichen Itza. The entire structure is divided into three areas, corresponding to the three divisions of the world according to Buddhism: the base corresponds to Kamhadatu, the world of desires; the middle to Rupadhatu, the world of forms; and the top to Arupadhatu, the world of the formless.

The walls of the complex are covered in reliefs, about 2,600 in all. The reliefs tell stories about the birth of Siddartha, as well as his life before and after attaining bodhi. They also depict the cause-and-effect relationship between worldly desires and suffering, and the merit of charity and compassion. Beginning at the second level, there are 432 statues of the Buddha scattered around the walls. The top platform consists of 72 smaller stupas, with a statue inside each. The stupas were built with large holes, allowing the statues inside to be seen. (There's a superstition that, if you can reach inside and touch the point where the statue's fingers meet, your wish will come true.) Lingga told us that the spirit of the architect is believed to protect the temple complex. It's even said that his figure can be seen lying down in the form of the mountains near Borobudur.

A full tour of the temple includes viewing each panel of each level, symbolizing the ascent through the levels of the world. Lingga took us on an abridged version of this, teaching us a lot about the structure and about Buddhism. She explained that the temple was abandoned sometime after it was completed, and was soon overgrown by the forest. Earthquakes and volcanic eruptions also damaged the structure, toppling some of the temple and covering parts in ash. When it was discovered by Europeans in 1814, it took two months for workers to clear away the growth and unearth the original temple.

That means that for some centuries, nobody valued the temple enough to maintain it. If the nearby residents had been Buddhist, surely they would have appreciated Borobudur's significance and taken steps to preserve it. That they didn't indicates a shift away from Buddhism, which was probably encouraged by the region's shift to Islam in the 15th century. Can you imagine what it must have been like to be a Javan walking through the forest, and finding evidence of something so massive? And then asking your family and friends about it, only to find out nobody really knew? I wonder if it was comparable to growing up in southern Europe after the fall of Rome, surrounded by ruins and structures without understanding where they came from.

The restoration was extensive: not only were stupas and balustrades rebuilt, but original stonework from the walls and floors of the temple had to be replaced. While the replacement stones are deliberately similar in appearance to the originals, Lingga showed us that the replacements have been marked with a white dot in the center. The original design included a drainage system of pipes to prevent rainwater from pooling in the upper levels. Earthquakes and general decay disturbed much of the system, and the original pipes have been reinforced with concrete and PVC pipe. It still needs work, though, because apparently some of the methods used to restore the structure are chemically damaging the stonework.

As we milled around at the top and took some pictures, Mutia got my attention. Zoe had been approached by a group of tourists who wanted to take their picture with her. It's amazing how much a fair-skinned blue-eyed platinum blonde stands out in southeast Asia. (It took me a few days to realize that's probably why the poor girl wore a hat so much while we were there.) The first one looks unremarkable enough, but the look on the guy's face in the second one shows what he was really thinking.

Just before we made our descent, the sun decided to line up perfectly with the clouds. This was the result. We got to the bottom and, now able to fully appreciate the scale of the structure, took pictures of the whole thing. Lingga patiently took all four of our cameras and got a group picture of us.

On our way out, the girls were waylaid by merchants. The complex was closing soon, and the peddlers were pouncing on us stragglers. Mutia playfully went back and forth haggling one merchant for about fifteen minutes--all while walking--before paying him more than what they agreed on. Zoe and Rachel had more or less filled up their suitcases, and so had to decline, but didn't do it correctly, so the merchants interpreted it as them playing hard to get. Lingga was politely trying to rush us, both to shake the peddlers and to get us out before the gates closed. I was the only one who stuck with her, and we eventually had to stop and wait while they played this out. I think the girls ultimately bought a sarong or two, just to placate the merchants.

Once outside the gate, we had a few minutes to browse the main market. We were all thirsty, and Mutia found a drink she remembered from her childhood. It looked sort of like sweet tea, and came in glass bottles. Because recycling bins aren't common in rural Java, the lady would pour the drink into a plastic bag, stick a straw in it, and serve it that way. Mutia remembered doing exactly that on her way home from elementary school in the summertime.

We said goodbye to Borobudur, climbed back aboard the van, and began the hour-long ride to Jogjakarta. After all our exploring, we all took a nap. Lingga woke us up as we approached Jogja, to make sure with Mutia where our hotel was. (Mutia's dad had booked the hotel for us from Jakarta.) She explained that Jogja is a center for Indonesian higher education, and that some of the most prestigious universities in the country are found there. For that reason, there's a huge student population, which creates a constant demand for cheap goods and services, such as restaurants.

They dropped us off at our hotel, the Ibis Malioboro. Lingga helped me change some money in preparation for the next day's trip. After that, we gave her and the driver a tip (again, it's become so uncommon for me in Japan that I feel the need to mention it), and they headed out. We checked in, dropped off our stuff, and hit the town, starving. We sniffed around for a nice restaurant, and quickly decided on a seafood place near the hotel.

We were seated quickly, but that's right about where the prompt service stopped. There couldn't have been more than ten customers in the restaurant, but we only saw two different servers. We ordered, and had to wait about 45 minutes before the food arrived. This wouldn't have bothered us, had we not been so hungry. We passed the time just basking in the afterglow of all the stuff we'd done. The food eventually arrived, and mine was pretty good. That brown sauce is called satay sauce, and is pretty common in Indonesian cuisine. The main ingredient is peanut butter, which explains why I love it so much. (Any of you from Springfield know I love the Mudhouse's Elvis.) We wolfed our food down, settled up, and went out to walk the town.

Just like in Tainan, most of the folks in Jogja had motorbikes. We walked by several of the student-geared restaurants Lingga had told us about, which consisted mainly of tents around grills, with cushions on the ground for seating. We found all kinds of stalls with all kinds of merchandise: purses, shirts, sarongs, trinkets, and shoes. The merchants weren't as aggressive as the others we'd seen that day, which was a nice change. The girls spent a long, long time at each stall, which I had been expecting. The only thing that bothered me was that there wasn't much around that I wanted to browse, and lingering around a stall led to the merchant starting up negotiations for whatever you happened to be looking at.

Lingga had warned us on our way in about a scam that's been going on: something about people inviting us to a "gallery" or "exhibition" that's always in an out-of-the-way place, like down a side alley. She didn't really specify what went on there, but mentioned something about them expecting payment afterwards. Regardless, it sounded sketchy enough that none of us wanted to mess with it. Sure enough, several shopkeepers mentioned it to us.

We also did a lot of shopping for batik shirts. Batik is a style of fabric design famous in Indonesia. Different regions have their own distinct styles, and Mutia explained that most of what we saw in Jogja was unique to the area. After trying them on, I bought a couple of shirts in a nice shop. The owner, after talking to us at length, eventually told us about "the exhibition" down one of the nearby side streets. I really wish I'd been with a bigger group for just that evening, so I could have found out exactly what the scam was without fear of being robbed.

There were several stalls selling t-shirts. Most of them were the kind of pop-culture shirts you find at Hot Topic or Spencer's: band logos, movie characters, etc. What really struck me, though, was how cheap they were. Bear in mind that the exchange rate was about 9,500 rupiah to 1 dollar, so those shirts are going for about $1.25 each.

After spending two or three hours browsing, our legs were about ready to fall off. We staggered back to the hotel and got ready for the next day. I used the Internet to check my email and the weather for the next few days. We were splitting up again: Mutia was going back to Jakarta, while Rachel, Zoe, and I were heading to a town called Semarang for an adventure...