Beberapakali berdiri di hadapan Borobudur saya lagi-lagi berdecak takjub, "ajaib..."
Nggak heran kalau si Susan ini sampai berani bertaruh sebagai ungkapan kagumnya pada Borobudur. --- holy uncle <holyuncle@...> wrote: > In Indonesia, watching the sun rise with 504 Buddhas > > Borobudur could be the keyhole to nirvana, one intrepid American > traveler figures, as she contemplates the state of being from atop > the majestic ancient temple. > By Susan Spano, Special to the Los Angeles Times > > January 6, 2012, 9:35 a.m. > > Reporting from Yogyakarta, Indonesia â" â" Four a.m. is a > terrible time of day, too late for night owls, too early for early > risers. The exception is 4 a.m. at Borobudur, waiting for the sun > to rise over the Kedu Plain in central Java with 504 figures of > Buddha. > The temple is one of three great religious sites in Southeast Asia, > but it's older and more esoteric than Bagan in Myanmar and Angkor > Wat in Cambodia. It was begun in the 8th century by the Sailendras, > a dynasty of Buddhist kings who ruled central Java for almost 200 > years until their power waned and the temple was abandoned. > > The stepped pyramid rises in nine levels to a single bell-shaped > stupa surrounded by galleries. The pilgrims walk around them, > meditating on stone reliefs that tell the life story of Siddhartha > Gautama, an Indian prince who transcended life's pain and became > the Lord Buddha. > > You can circle the monument with them or climb to the top, but only > by looking at a diagram can you tell that the temple is shaped like > a mandala, a mystical scheme of the Buddhist cosmos. The three > levels denote states of consciousness, from human suffering to > enlightenment. Little is known beyond that, leaving the cosmos > locked shut while Borobudur reigns, silent and solitary, over the > volcano-ringed garden of Java. > > I told friends I was coming to Southeast Asia in fall 2010 to see > Angkor, a mission accomplished. But for no reason I understood, my > real objective was Borobudur, less well known and off the beaten > track in the world's most populous Islamic country and a feared > breeding ground for Al Qaeda. > > Not only that, but Indonesia is also prone to natural disasters. > The 9.0 earthquake off Sumatra on Dec. 26, 2004, launched a tsunami > that killed 230,000 people in 14 countries across South Asia. A few > days after my visit to Java, Mt. Merapi, over whose shoulder I saw > the sun rise from the top of Borobudur, erupted. > > The trip was, despite everything, surprisingly peaceful, even > dreamy. It was organized by Borobudur Tour & Travel, which offered > a three-day itinerary in central Java, including a van, a driver > and hotels, for $375, no deposit required. > > The rainy season had just begun when I flew from Singapore to > Yogyakarta, about 35 miles southeast of Borobudur. The name of the > town's airport, Adisucipto, seemed to me almost as imponderable as > that of the province's sultan and elected governor, Hamengkubuwono. > Fortunately, I had an easier time with my driver Noor, whom I > spotted in arrivals holding a sign that said "Spano," presumably a > name as baffling to Indonesians as theirs were to me. He had been > told to meet a couple from Spain instead of a single female > traveler from the U.S. > > Noor, a soft-spoken, amiable man, was unfazed. He was a reliable > driver, and as a guide, he was good at pointing out aspects of > everyday life. For instance, more than half the 230 million people > of Indonesia live on the island of Java, which, at 50,000 square > miles, is about a third the size of California but has more than > three times the people. > > Indonesians tend to marry as early as 14 and have lots of children, > which has prompted the government to promote a two-children- > per-family policy. Indonesian men are allowed up to four wives. > Noor had only one. I liked that about him. > > From the airport we took the traffic-clogged, two-lane ring road > around Yogyakarta, passing cottage industries making wood furniture > and replicas of temple statues. We saw a boy riding a small merry- > go-round mounted on the back of a bike and greengrocery huts with > exotic produce such as snake-skinned salak fruit piled high. > Children bathed in an engorged river, and women in colorful head > scarves did the wash. Rice paddies were filled to the brim with > water and set like cloudy cut opals in the blazing green landscape. > > For a warmup, we stopped at Prambanan, a temple complex close to > Yogyakarta built shortly after Borobudur, but architecturally more > like Angkor Wat with a central artichoke-shaped stupa surrounded by > four smaller ones. The compound, seriously damaged in 2006 by a > 6.3-magnitude earthquake and partly covered by shaky bamboo > scaffolding, looks as though it could collapse with the next tremor. > > Noor said, "Hati hati," which means "be careful" in Indonesian, > then waited while I climbed the main stupa and paid my respects to > a 10-foot-tall statue of the Hindu god Shiva. Together with > Buddhist Borobudur, this chiefly Hindu place of worship is a > testament to the theological melding that took place in the Middle > Ages on Java. The two faiths borrowed from each other until Islam, > brought by Arab traders, took root around 1400. > > The Yogyakarta region, with a population of about 3 million, is the > only Indonesian province still ruled by a sultan, a special status > recognizing the role the region played in the war for independence > against the Dutch. The city is now home to several major Indonesian > universities, which gives it a smart, young air. But its center > remains Sultan Hamengkubuwono's palace (or kraton), a walled, > whitewashed compound with open-air pavilions. A 175-piece gamelan > orchestra, an ensemble of wind, string and percussion, performs > here. It has its own bank, a 2,500-man military garrison, a museum > of mostly hideous gifts given to sultans, 20 vehicles in the royal > garage and 75 bird cages. > > On a tour arranged by Noor, an official palace guide pointed out > the décor's myriad male and female symbols; even the cages have > male and female birds, a feature that prompted the guide to divulge > an interesting theory about the present sultan, who has just one > wife and five daughters, unlike his father, another Hamengkubuwono, > who had 21 children with four concubines. The sultan's sad lack of > a male heir, the guide suggested, stems from the sexual > aggressiveness of the queen consort, a condition that produces girl > children only. > > Reflecting on that, I took a bicycle cab (or becek), the most > common, cheap and practical form of transportation in teeming > Yogyakarta, down the distracting hurly-burly of Malioboro Road. > Lined by tightly packed rows of buildings with Dutch stepped > gables, New Orleans-style balconies, galleries full of food and > souvenir vendors â" all cheerfully suffering the effects of recent > earthquakes and tropical torpor â" this main street quickly became > one of my favorite places to shop in the world. I bought light > cotton shirts and trousers for about $5 each at the Matahari > Department Store, a bouquet of camellias from a flower stall, cheap > batik scarves on the pavement and a basket in the local market > where salesmen stacked comestibles I couldn't identify in tall > pyramids. > > One of them spoke enough English to ask where I was from. When I > told him the U.S., he beamed, saying that President Obama had lived > in Indonesia as a boy. Later, I saw another instance of effective > American diplomacy in newspaper photos of the first lady wearing a > stylish head scarf, a relaxed form of head covering increasingly > adopted by Islamic Indonesian women who until recently had gone > unveiled. > > I stayed two nights at a hotel on Sosrowijayan Street just off > Malioboro, an enclave for scruffy-looking backpackers. Pedestrian > alleyways off Sosrowijayan were full of countertop tour agencies, > cheap guest houses and cafes selling secondhand copies of the late > Erich Segal's "Love Story," Rick Steves' 1986 guide to Europe, > Western-style breakfasts and uniformly terrible coffee. Unwilling > to accept that I couldn't get a good cup of joe on the island of > Java, I roamed the soulful, animated city, never finding it but > filling my new basket with additional treasures. > > Finally, we got to the main event: Borobudur, a few hours by van > from Yogyakarta. Near a ramshackle village strung along a bumpy > road, it is one of the least touristy UNESCO World Heritage Sites > I've visited. I didn't see a hotel until we entered the temple gate > and parked at a cluster of low buildings set around beds of orange > cannas. This was the Manohara guest house, originally built for > researchers and architectural historians that completed a major > renovation of the temple in 1983. Now open to travelers, it > provides a welcome drink ofCoca-Cola with tamarind, modest rooms, > good food in an open-air dining room, a video introduction to > Borobudur and easy access to the temple, especially for people who > want to see it at sunrise. > > We arrived in the late afternoon, just as the skies were > threatening. Nevertheless, I headed straight for the temple, hidden > by trees until the very threshold. Then Borobudur made its > appearance, a great layer cake of mottled gray stone supporting a > mountain of needle-pinnacled stupas. > > The arched staircases from level to level are treacherously steep, > overlooked by gaping-mouthed gargoyle water spouts, nymphs (or > apsaras), dancing arms akimbo, and niches enshrining Buddha > figures, each with hands in different symbolic poses (or mudras). > His life story unfolds on the middle level, starting at the left > side of the eastern entrance with stone panels of great vividness, > recalling the medieval Bayeux tapestry in France. I ran my hand > over a carving of Queen Maya in a carriage headed for Lumbini Park, > where she gave birth to the Buddha. > > Just then a clap of thunder thwacked à la Macbeth, and guards > began herding visitors to a gate far from the one I'd entered. When > I told one of them that I needed to get back to the Manohara, he > offered to take me there on his motor scooter. I figured I'd crack > Borobudur's meaning the next morning. Meanwhile, I let fly on the > ride of a lifetime around the temple. > > That night, I watched the Borobudur video, had a satay dinner at > the restaurant, accompanied by gamelan music, and claimed a > flashlight at the front desk for my sunrise visit to Borobudur. I > slept soundly, without the interruptions I normally experience on > the eve of a great event. > > Dawn was an hour away when I joined a small group of guests in the > lobby and followed a guide across the lawn to the temple. He made > no comment; there was nothing to say â" except perhaps hati hati. > > This time, I climbed to the top levels, which are round, not > rectangular, and bare except for their forest of stupas, perforated > to allow peeks at Buddha statues inside. Experts say that > Borobudur's more abstract upper precincts, especially its empty > central stupa, reflect nirvana, a state of being beyond human > consciousness. > > But how could they know? How could anyone know, even sitting atop > the temple watching the pinkness of sunrise pool in a halo around > soon-to-erupt Mt. Merapi, where the mystery of the cosmos remains > secure? But if there is a keyhole to it anywhere, I'd wager it's at > Borobudur. > > travel@... > > Copyright © 2012, Los Angeles Times > http://www.latimes.com/travel/la-tr-bor ... ?track=rss > > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed] ------------------------------------ Post message: [email protected] Subscribe : [email protected] Unsubscribe : [email protected] List owner : [email protected] Homepage : http://proletar.8m.com/Yahoo! 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