Early in the morning, it was time to explore this world-famous temple and see some of the sites.  As we walked across the compound toward the megalith, we were accosted by a group of men heading in the same direction.  They began yelling my friend's name.  To this day, the mystery remains as to how they knew her name, we had never met them before.  She and I looked at each other with confusion and made the decision to run.  We spent the rest of the day trying to figure out how they knew her name, which isn’t common, especially in Indonesia. 

We approached the foot of the temple, in absolute awe at the size and workmanship.

It was one of the most spectacular sights I’d ever seen, and yet, I didn’t know how to appreciate it.  Having no education or understanding of this part of the world, Buddhism, or consciousness, I really just thought it was a cool structure. 

We began our ascent of the temple, and there were a few signs around that gave some information about the history of the temple, and best practices for climbing it.  One particular sign told us that it was tradition for the monks to circle around each platform seven times, in a certain direction, all while contemplating and meditating on their lives.  We decided we’d do the same. 

By the third platform, we were getting a little tired of circling around seven times, and we started to get distracted.  We were fascinated with the carvings on the walls, and would often stop to take a look, capture a photo, and bring each other’s attention to something. Very quickly, I came to the realization that we were circling each platform in the wrong direction. The question was asked, ‘if we walk the wrong way around each platform, do we become de-enlightened?’  From that point forward, the seriousness and mysticism of the temple were gone for us, and the giggling began again.  

I don’t remember if we ever made it to the top of that temple. 

I’m certain we offended some people with our laughter and shenanigans.  By the time we got back down to the bottom, we were a hot mess.  Decisions were made to go check out the rest of the compound and see what was happening. 

We came across an elephant that was available to ride.  Yes, the elephant was chained.  No, the elephant was not well cared for.  It was heartbreaking.  And yet, being so young and immature, and seeing an opportunity, I decided I wanted to ride the elephant.  In this part of the country, they do not put saddles on the elephants, you ride them bareback, which is terrifying. 

The guide and owner of the elephant told me that he would ride the beast with me and that I just needed to hold on to him. 

Now, I’m not a large woman, but Indonesian men are tiny. 

His legs were as big around as my arms, and as I looked at the elephant, and then at him, I wondered how I was going to survive.  

Up on the animal we went, and I hung on to this tiny man for dear life.  He told me to relax, which was easier said than done because I was way up in the air on a beast I didn’t know or trust.  We began walking around the compound, and I started to relax as I settled into the rhythm of the elephant's pace.  I had ridden horses my whole life, so it didn’t take long to get into the flow.  Until the guide decided to take the elephant onto a side hill, and I started to slip.  There was nothing to hang on to, and the man was half my size.  My only hope was that if I fell, he was coming with me and I’d land on top of him. 

It was a long way down from the top of that elephant. 

Fortunately, I was able to get a grip with my legs and keep my precarious position atop the animal.  Terrified, I told the guide that I was done.  What does he do?  Puts the elephant into a run to get him back to his pen!  Bouncing around behind him, I hung on for dear life, hoping upon all hopes that this wasn’t the end for me.   I’ve ridden an elephant and checked it off the bucket list, but let’s just say, I’ll likely never do it again.