The Largest Temple in the Buddhist World
I am not a spiritual, dharma-seeking kind of guy. In fact, I think that I’m well aware how lucky and “blessed” I’ve been in this world and try to treat this world and its peoples as Paradise, rather than think there’s anything grander coming next.
But to witness daybreak at Borobudur was certainly impressive, a time for quiet contemplation and reverence and awe even if you don’t quite buy that there’s a grander scheme of things. The largest pyramid in the Buddhist world still remains mysterious, as little is known about its use, its construction, or why it was erected there. I’ll let Wikipedia fill you in on the details, but if this UNESCO Heritage site isn’t already on your bucket list, it should be.
It was pouring rain when I checked in, pitch dark, and a part of me was shaking my head thinking “why am I not curled up in a snug bed right now?”
From Surabaya, it’s only a quick flight of about an hour to Yogjakarta, a large city in the south-central part of Java. Compared to the 14 hours to Hong Kong and 4 to Surabaya, a flight of an hour is cake.
From central Yogjakarta it’s about an hour drive out to the site, so I left my hotel at 3:30am, arriving at 5am. Very important to remember that in addition to an admission ticket (often included in the tour, but not always), you must have a copy of your passport. Your hotel may provide you with this, but it’s easy to forget. If you do forget, you may not be allowed entry into the site!
It was pouring rain when I checked in, pitch dark, and a part of me was shaking my head thinking “why am I not curled up in a snug bed right now?” The driver provided a thin plastic poncho, a flashlight, and a bottle of drinking water. I had my hotel umbrella, under which was a good $4000 worth of camera gear, all precariously in danger of getting soaked.
Though the photos make it look like I had the place to myself, I was far from the only person there. A bus tour of Japanese tourists, numerous couples and threesomes, and a bunch of school children all jostled and huffed their way up the staircases…still entirely in pitch dark. And in the rain.
My driver had said to go up and then around the central pillar to the left for the best, most dramatic view. It turned out that the best view was actually due east, though this was where nearly everyone decided to wait for the sun to rise.
Luckily, as the sky gradually changed from black to gray, the rain started to let up. I was soaked from the knees down, but at least my head, camera, and (most important!) my spirits were not damp.
The clouds threatened to spoil the sunrise but just as many people had opted to call it a day and head back, the sun pierced through the torn-cotton clouds and splashed the volcano and surrounding forests and fields with amber. Combined with the mist, the dark stone columns we were standing among, the sunshine seemed even more ethereal and supernatural. Something sublime.
I have trekked to many remote and strange places, summited mountains, seen untouched jungles from the tops of near-unvisited pyramids, but this was something different and unique. A chance to catch a glimpse of something pure and beautiful and, (if it’s not blasphemy to come from the mouth of yours truly!), holy.
Whenever I’m standing on one of these ancient monuments, I feel just a bit like I’m a time-traveler. Standing there I could feel the presence of the people who built it, who stood there as I did, watching the sun rise and bring warmth and light to the world. How wonderful that this place, forgotten for centuries, now has protected UNESCO status.
The walls of Borobudur are covered with detailed depictions of the 10 levels of life, from sex, conception, and birth (the lower layers), to old age and death at the top. The Indonesian government has covered up the sex level as it was deemed inappropriate for viewing. (Luckily, this has not been destroyed, just covered.)
On the way home, my driver said that for a long time after its discovery, this temple was often looted for its Buddha heads. Many were sold, often for a hefty sum, some to museums, but many to private collectors — effectively hiding them from the world as well as the jungle did. Who knows where these precious artifacts have gone to, and whether any might find their way back here. Most likely they’re gone forever.
This Buddha remains. I watched as the rain collected on its cheeks. It seemed alive, and grieving.
