Day 7, Borobudur: On Blending In, or, I Was Photographed Nine Times Before I Reached the Top

Arrival at Borobudur. I was a bit uncertain leaving Bali- I had been warned that, upon setting foot in Java, I was immediately to be separated from my money by marauding bands of rude people. For this reason I was happy to spring for a cab to my hotel, just in case- a good thing, since it took over an hour to get from the Yogyakarta airport to Borobudur, and it's only about 20 miles- can't imagine the bus. It will surprise nobody that I got a bit emotional on the way- Borobudur is impetus for this trip around the world- particularly when I saw the BOROBUDUR WORLD CULTURE HERITAGE 2 KM sign.

A word about the trip, and why it was necessary to fly thousands and thousands of miles to get to this particular spot: Back in the dark days of third semester, when we were all pretty broken down and exhausted from the workload, I actually remember saying to my friend Virginia, "Is it wrong to be in my 30's and feel like I have nothing left to look forward to? Because, seriously, I can not see out of this right now." And then within a few hours of that low point, I stood up and tore the cartilage in my knee, again, and there was surgery and 12 weeks of crutches, again, and I went from "I love all of my classes and I think if I work hard I can make all A's" to "I just don't want to have to withdraw." Somewhere in the middle of that fog, I was on the front row of the auditorium where you have to crane your neck upward to see the slides from my World Architecture class. Thank you, Kristen Schaffer, for that saving grace- when we got to Buddhist architecture and Borobudur, I was mesmerized. I made a solemn vow that, when I survived it all, I was going. No matter what, and as soon as possible. Months of physical therapy: Borobudur. Building a six-foot model base while balancing on one foot: Borobudur. Vision all trippy from exhaustion: Borobudur. Doctor's orders to spend three months resting: Hah. I'm in architecture school. But....Borobudur.

And so. Two years later, and almost exactly half a world away, I am here. It all rushed back to me, with much gratitude, when I saw the sign. And when I walked the lane that led me to the temple itself and finally stood in at the base, I of course I cried outright. Followed by a reminder from the universe to take nothing too seriously: I approached the monument solemnly, intending to circum-ambulate clockwise according to custom and reflect and meditate my way to the top, and was beset immediately by many busloads of Indonesian middle schoolers. Despite my former-teacher reflex, which still makes me want to instruct, and hide from, unruly groups of teens, it was actually really amusing. They raced straight up the steep stairs to the top ("Circum-ambulate clockwise, people! Reflect!") and proceeded to drape themselves over every surface of the temple, as is the nature of teenagers since time immemorial. Half of them were on cell phones.

Mind you, I was expecting a mob scene, and I had no illusions about blending in with this gorgeous Indonesian population- but I was SO not prepared for what came next. Apparently the appearance of a foreigner here is an event worth photographing. The first group who approached me were teenage boys; at first I thought they were just trying to sell a tour or something. The second and third groups were girls in headscarves, who skittered off giggling after the photos saying, "I'm so happy! So happy!" Then a family, and more school children, and two older men- and so on. All very polite, and friendly, and just wanted to ask, "What's your name? Where are you from? Ok BYE!" I got super self-conscious about being the object of all of these photos, so I started taking photos back, and I have about a million. My cowgirl sunhat, which is admittedly ridiculous but effective (you know the one) was probably conspicuous, and according to the kids here, my sunglasses are a little bit Hollywood.

Besieged again on every subsequent trip; I think this is a hint of what celebrities must feel like...Today it was a busload of young adults, 17, 18, and 19, in an English class. Their field trip was to visit Borobudur, specifically to practice English on foreigners. I know this because they showed me their itinerary: I think 6 hours were allowed for the "practice English on foreigners" bullet. I posed for pictures about every 10 feet. Their teacher, once he saw I was friendly, started sending shy groups to me. One cluster would leave, and another would come- and each one, sincerely, delightful. They spoke very good English and asked me great questions, and gave me a list of foods I have to try and monuments to visit when I go through Jakarta. One invited me to her house. Half of Indonesia now has my e-mail address.

I had noble intentions of sitting and sketching the lovely stone Buddhas in their lovely stone lattice bells, but sitting still makes you an even easier target- so I did not do my best work. They all said, "Keep going! We want to watch! What's your favorite food? Where is your husband? What is Washington DC like?" So I gave up on the Buddha drawings and drew maps of DC for them instead. And snowmen, they wanted to know about snowmen. My dreams of idyllic sketching and serious photography and reflection on my place in the cosmos? Mmm....probably not today. I still have time to take a few more trips to the top, and I did get one big dose of what I wanted today- but that's in my next entry! For now, it's 3 cups of coffee, and regrouping so I can go contribute to international peace and diplomacy up there again....

And thank you universe, you do indeed have a sense of humor.