If you’ve ever dreamed of swimming with jellyfish without turning into a human pincushion, your fantasy is not only possible—it’s floating in the heart of Indonesia.

On a quiet February morning in 1943, a Mexican farmer named Dionisio Pulido was tending to his cornfield in the village of San Juan Parangaricutiro. The sun was rising, the soil smelled of earth and ash, and the world seemed as ordinary as ever. Until, quite literally, it cracked open beneath his feet.