As far as Indonesia is concerned, one destination takes away all the spotlight: Bali. And for good reason: few places offer such an eclectic mix of culture, relaxation and adventure, all at an affordable price. But Indonesia, I am beginning to realize, has many other interesting destinations as well
I spent the last weekend in Yogakarta - often referred to as Jogja, situation in central Java. A city of five million people, it is the gateway to the Buddhist Borobudur and Hindu Prambanam temples, and considered the cultural capital of Indonesia.
The fun started even before I landed. A few minutes before landing, the pilot announced that there was an earthquake in Jogja and he would circle the airport till further instructions from air control. Thankfully, it was a mild quake and there was no damage to life or property, and to my relief, the runway. It was pouring heavily by the time we hit the tarmac and there were no aerobridges at this small airport. I was quite impressed that the budget airline – Air Asia – provided all the passengers with giant umbrellas for the 50 meter walk from the plane to the terminal.
Indonesia has cheap labor and cheaper petrol, and thus cabs are very cheap. But I decided to take the local bus to the center of town. One’s experience of public transport is all about whether you see the glass half empty or half full. It’s irritating that no one speaks English, but its fun trying to figure out where to get off. Its uncomfortable, but cheap. Its slow, but you can slowly savor the local flavor. You are forced to study the map, and end up knowing the city’s layout.
To a great extent, it was like taking a bus in a small town in India. Strangers talk to each other. If you step on someone’s foot, you don’t get a stare, its par for the course. Blind men board the bus and no one offers them a seat. Some good stuff, some bad, but quite the opposite to what I experience in Singapore.
I couldn’t quite think of any place that I could compare Jogja to. It was a bustling city, but there were no high rises – probably due to the danger of quakes. Sandwiched between ugly shops were quaint homes. There was a colorful mosque modeled on Moscow’s incomparable St Peter’s Basilica. A few Chinese styled homes contrasted well with the Indonesian architecture. The three small rivers flowing through town were lined with slums perched along the steep banks.
The heart of town was Malioboro street, with the Sultan Palace at one end, and lined with Batik shops, a couple of modern malls, the Ramayana theatre, and a few museums. I found a quaint bed and breakfast in one of the alleyways, and then headed out to the Prambanam temples. The ride was quite a bummer as the bus went all the way back to the airport, and the temples were only a further 10 minutes away from there.
A UNESCO world heritage site, Pranbanam – which is an inflection of the word Brahman – was built in the 9th century AD by Java’s Hindu Kings. The centerpiece of the complex was a Shiva temple, flanked by a Vishnu and Brahma temple on each side, and temples dedicated to their vehicles (Nandi, Garuda and Hamsa) facing those of their lords. One could witness the ruins of a couple of hundred other smaller temples. The temples were beautiful, though not in the same category as Angkor Wat, or say Ellora, Hampi and Pattadakal back in India.
A young girl, probably a college student, approached me, noted down my name and nationality and asked me what I thought about the temples and if I had a view on the Government’s initiative to rebuild the damaged part of the structures. As soon as she thanked me for the responses and walked away, another one approached, and then one more. The pressure of achieving numerical targets is not confined only to bankers!
I had skipped lunched and was famished as I returned to Malioboro street in the evening. I was in no mood to experiment and headed straight to a Pizza hut in a mall. The waiter greeted me with a one handed Namaste, as he was holding a tray in the other hand. Earlier I had clicked a group picture for some girls at Prambanam, and they had all thanked me by joining their palms. It was interesting to note that while the religious affiliation was to Islam, a lot of the mannerisms were Hindu. There was a concert going on in the mall, wherein twenty professional photographers were clicking away the two pretty pop artists, while there were only 5 people actually listening to them. On another floor, a group of men were racing remote controlled cars on a small track.
I went to bed early as I had to leave at 4 am to join the Borobudur sunrise group tour. An hours’ drive from Jogja and a ten minute gentle hike got us atop Setumbu Hill. A couple of miles away was Borobudur, shrouded in cloud, and in the distance loomed the active Merapi volcano which last erupted as recently as October 2013. An overcast morning meant there was no sunrise, and the temple was a little too far to make much of an impression, but it wasn’t a bad view overall.
After close to an hour on the hill, we reached Borobudur around 7 am. I wouldn’t use the word breathtaking, but nevertheless it was one of the best temples I have seen. Built in the 9th century AD, Borobudur is the largest Buddhist temple in the world. The architecture was unique, with six square platforms representing the world of forms (Rupadhatu) topped by three circular platforms representing the world of formlessness (Arupadhatu). A few hundred Buddha statues adorned the walls of the square platforms, and numerous others were seated inside perforated stupas along the circular platforms.
Ironically, the locals didn’t seem to care about the architecture much. Every single local group present there wanted to be clicked alongside every single foreigner visiting the premises. Even me, an Indian, was highly sought after. School groups, couples, families, all wanted to take pictures with me, and then shake hands. Even a tiny little boy, comparable in size to the giant steps at the temple, had his camera focused on me as he struggled up the staircase. The country seems to be going through a photography revolution: I recalled a friend remarking recently that his photo-processing website’s client base is disproportionately Indonesian.
I was also approached by a group of schoolboys who were assigned a task to practice their English speaking skills with foreigners. One of them was reading out questions from a piece of paper. It didn’t bother me that his pronunciation was way off the mark, but I got a sense that he had no clue what it meant. This was a country probably closest to India in terms of challenges faced on the path to being a developed country, and perhaps one step further behind. On the way home, the scant facilities at the departure terminal reminded me of the state of the Ahmedabad / Bangalore airports a few years back.
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