Beyond the grandeur of Indonesia’s most famous ancient monument lies a world where art and traditional crafts flourish in a bucolic setting.

Basiyo, the craftsman behind the upanat sandals used at Borobudur temple; a painting of a Buddha head at Limanjawi Art House. — *Left to right*: Basiyo, the craftsman behind the *upanat* sandals used at Borobudur temple; a painting of a Buddha head at Limanjawi Art House. (Photos: Eqqi Syahputra)

As the sun peeks over the eastern horizon, its warm light sweeps across the ancient reliefs of Borobudur. I stand mesmerized amid a crowd of chattering tourists, gazing up at the ninth-century Buddhist temple from the lawns at its base. It isn’t my first time, but I’m still awed by the sheer scale of this masterpiece by the powerful Sailendra dynasty, rulers of the long-lost Mataram Kingdom. Built with millions of andesite stones in the form of a giant mandala, the temple-mountain was assembled like a vast Lego structure without mortar, relying solely on an interlocking technique that has allowed it to withstand volcanic eruptions and earthquakes for more than a millennium.

Located in Magelang Regency, part of the Indonesian province of Central Java, Borobudur ranks as the most visited attraction in the nation, though that hasn’t stopped the government from naming the UNESCO World Heritage site and its eponymous district as one of the country’s five “super priority” tourism destinations aimed at bringing in more foreign travelers. On this weekday morning, I join a group of Malaysians winding their way to the temple’s circular upper platforms. Framed by four volcanoes—Merbabu and Merapi to the east, Sindoro and Sumbing to the north—the lush expanse of the Kedu Plain spreads out in all directions below the stupa-studded terraces.

Yet the allure of Borobudur extends far beyond the perimeter of the district’s namesake monument. One only needs to look down at the upanat sandals now required for all visitors to prevent further deterioration of the stone floors. “Upanat means ‘footwear,’ and their name and shape are taken from the Karmawibhangga relief on panel 150 of the temple,” explains Basiyo, the sandals’ creator. (Like many Indonesians, he goes by only one name.) At BW Craft, his charming workshop in Wanurejo village a few hundred meters from the temple proper, Basiyo tells me the sandals are made with woven pandan leaves and sponge, and designed in collaboration with the Borobudur Conservation Center. These days, he oversees eight small-scale production houses that provide additional income for the local community.

The UNESCO-protected temple of Borobudur contains over 2,600 reliefs and more than 500 Buddha statues. (Courtesy of Wonderful Indonesia)

I soon discover how the hospitable residents of this area all seem to know each other. Basiyo is well-acquainted with Umar Chusaini, the founder of Limanjawi Art House, a gallery ringed on three sides by vegetable fields and coconut palms. “We have a community of artists in Borobudur,” he says over a warm cup of sweet tea. “This was actually my antiques business but I turned it into an exhibition gallery, because I noticed that my friends really needed this space for their works to be appreciated.” In the dim light of the echoey hall, Umar takes me through an array of artworks, including serene Buddha heads and other Borobudur-inspired creations, embodying wisdom, harmony, and peace. He recounts with pride an encounter with Queen Margrethe II of Denmark, who was captivated by the depth of Indonesian art and tradition on her visit in 2015.

Early one afternoon, I stop by Melek Huruf, a self-funded community library just 10 minutes’ drive from the temple in Candirejo village. Since opening last year, it has become a magnet for readers, with hundreds of books drawn from the collection of owners Cristian Rahadiansyah and Nina Hidayat. The couple have made the bold move of relocating from Jakarta with their newborn to run the place full-time. “When I was little, books were a luxury for me,” Cristian tells me. “My dream was just to buy a lot of books and let people read them.” After a trip to Magelang in 2013, he fell in love with its spiritual atmosphere and natural charm. The area is so conducive to creative pursuits that the longtime travel journalist nicknames it the “Ubud of Java.”

Melek Huruf is Indonesian for both “literacy” and “being literate,” and its founders are keenly aware of its underlying connection with the ancient monument up the road. “Borobudur is not just a religious site, but also a book containing historical stories carved in stone,” Cristian adds. “Imagine a library beside a giant carved book from the past … it’s romantic.” For now, the operation incorporates a small café and a cozy guest room, but the dream is to expand it to include a bookstore, a creative space, and additional lodgings for more guests to linger and soak up the peaceful ambience.

*Left to right*: Handmade pottery at Anik Gerabah; Umar Chusaini at his gallery, Limanjawi Art House. (Photos: Eqqi Syahputra)

As much as I love books, the highlight of my trip is a four-hour excursion with Borobudur Sunrise Cycling Tour, pedaling on dirt tracks and stretches of asphalt through a tapestry of rice paddies and quiet villages. Leading the way is ever-smiling guide Akhmat “Mamat” Nawawi, who’s keen to show me traditional crafts and skills passed down through the generations. Our first stop is Gula Jawa Borobudur in Karangrejo village, where I witness the process of making palm sugar from coconut sap and taste its sweetness. The freshly made palm sugar is so aromatic that even ants line up to steal it. Cruising down the undulating roads to Wanurejo, we visit Jamur Borobudur, a producer of wood ear, oyster, and prized lingzi mushrooms that cost a fraction of those sold overseas. Then it’s time to call in at Tingal Art Batik. Using a pen-like canting to carefully draw lines in hot wax on a handkerchief, I trace over patterns inspired by Borobudur’s intricate reliefs. A leisurely five-kilometer ride brings us to Anik Gerabah studio in Karanganyar village. Mamat shares how the pottery-making techniques here date back to the time of the Mataram Kingdom. Under the guidance of a skilled artisan, I sit at the potter’s wheel and attempt to shape a lump of rough clay into a bowl. My creation is far from perfect.

I’m famished after the cycling trip, so a lunch at nearby Caping Resto Borobudur suits me perfectly. Here, staff dressed in traditional attire serve up classics such as ayam ingkung—a whole grilled or fried chicken often presented at Central Javanese thanksgiving celebrations with urap salad and three types of sambal. Bamboo, the main element in the restaurant’s design, nods to a neighboring village known for crafts using the material. Given the shape of the thatched upper roof and its setting amid the rice fields, it makes sense the venue was named after the conical bamboo farmer’s hat, an everyday item imbued with philosophy. “The cone symbolizes unity,” says Caping Resto’s twentysomething owner Fuad Sae. “We all have to hold hands, regardless of age, social status, or appearance, with the same goal of getting closer to God.” It’s an egalitarian view the ancient Javanese temple-builders must surely have known.

I’m thankful I have the time to truly explore Borobudur’s surroundings instead of visiting as a quick excursion from nearby Yogyakarta. Days after returning to the noise and overstimulation of the big city, the temple reliefs linger in my mind, as do the hands of Javanese artisans, the bicycle tire tracks on dirt paths, and the sensation of wet clay sticking to my fingers—a reminder that cultural heritage is not just about historical relics but also a way of life that still endures in these humble places.

Ayam ingkung, a dish at Caping Resto Borobudur; Cristian Rahadiansyah and Nina Hidayat, the co-owners of Melek Huruf. — *Left to right*: *Ayam ingkung*, a dish at Caping Resto Borobudur; Cristian Rahadiansyah and Nina Hidayat, the co-owners of Melek Huruf. (Courtesy of Caping Resto Borobudur; courtesy of Melek Huruf)

This article originally appeared in the December 2024/February 2025 print issue of DestinAsian magazine (“At the Foot of Borobudur”).

The Other Side of Borobudur

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