We are now in the town of Yogyakarta and have seen a 2,000 year old Buddhist and Hindu temple. But wait, let me back track a little and tell you about our final day in Cianjur.
Outside the school gate, we shouted greetings, shook hands, and took pictures of the friendly mob gathered all around us. As the din of the noise reached an ear drum shattering timpani, Ega motioned us to come inside. Upon entering the school yard, hundreds upon hundreds of the most angel faced kids followed us around like a magnet to filling. Surrounded by such child like trust, innocence, and love, the smiles came naturally and we were shuttering away like fools and the kids and us ate it all up. Through the parting of the crowd, a stern but motherly teacher emerged and asked if we wanted a tour of the school. We nodded in unison like idiots and were taken from classroom to classroom ranging in grades from 1-6. The children filled with cheer and merriment would ask the obvious questions, such as where we had come from and what our hobbies were? The older kids were slightly more settled and the teacher had them raise hands, come to the front of the class, and ask questions. I am sure that if the energy of the youth can be successfully captured and piped through a grid that you could power several city blocks. I lost track but I think it was 3rd grade that a student confidently asked us to write our names on the whiteboard (Facebook purposes), we obliged and before even realizing, a line had formed behind us with eager beaming faces with notebooks in hand, pens and pencils at the ready, asking for our signatures. We signed every single one of the 40 or so school journals and wrote silly things like "We love Indonesia", "We are from America", and of course drew the obligatory smiley faces.
Sabeen suggested that the kids stand and perform the national anthem, which they did with all the vigor and enthusiasm expected of children proud of their country, eager to please their teachers, and impress upon us their standings. We were led out of the class so studies could once again resume. Walking again through the courtyard, there were children on the balconies, around the corner, and at every available space wishing us cheer and waving like mad. The kids escorted us out to the world of grown-ups, honking horns, and street hawkers.