Not What It Seems
Essay by 24 • December 6, 2010 • 1,326 Words (6 Pages) • 1,031 Views
Mission San Buenaventura, located in the picturesque downtown Buenaventura is the epitome of hokey small town tourism. Located on the Main street, Mission San Buenaventura is surrounded by thrift stores, beach wear outlets, and old time-y restaurants, not the typical surroundings you would expect to find a structure with such great history and controversial past. Parking on the street in front of the mission, I was a little shocked to hear a jazz band playing in the background and to find a bustling street fair being held on the street parallel to the mission. Combing the street in front of the church tower and courtyard, it took a good five minutes to find the entrance. To my surprise, the only entrance for visitors happens to be through the gift shop. The room, bigger then most others that I viewed on the tour is full from wall to wall with cheap knick-knacks that can be found in tourist's shops everywhere. Here I was given a small brochure, which was our guide on our tour through the mission.
After browsing through the shelves full of tacky religious paraphernalia I made my way to the entrance to the "museum". The room that was no bigger then my dorm room was filled with a few shelves of relics from the past. The most interesting items were the old wooden bell that used to adorn the bell tower, and an old confessional booth. These two items were the only two of substance, the only two items that gave a vague recollection of what daily life in the mission may have been like. The worn and wooden bell rang with memories that once filled the vibrant mission community. Other items included small statues of saints and Indian children, a few tapestries and paintings, all of which painted happy pictures of what the mission life was supposed to be like. With I quick look at the brochure I was lead to the church.
The small walk through the courtyard was lined plush pine tress and the sound of jazz music was wafting in the air, for a quick second I almost forgot that I was in a mission, the courtyard screamed small town charm, but not historical cornerstone. The high doors of the church were almost intimidating, as was the fear of interrupting someone in the middle of reflection. Even thought the brochure said nothing about mass, there were a good number of people inside praying. Not wanting to seem disrespectful, I stepped inside and made my way towards that back. I only spent a few minutes inside the church, but it was enough to observe the incredibly high ceilings, and the plush red pews that were obviously a new addition. The walls were lined with religious paintings and towering windows, candles lined the alter. And then, with another quick check of the brochure I was off to the five crosses the tour had pointed out. With each one I visited, it felt more and more like they had been placed there as some sort of attraction, a way to please the visitors. Each cross looked as if it was an enlarged version of the ones sold in the gift store, placed outdoors and surrounded by candles.
I proceeded to walk the path that my handy brochure laid out for me, passing by the settling tank and fountain, once the giver of life for the mission, now hidden by the towering school behind it. The next stop on the tour was more difficult to find. The tomb of three significant fathers was sandwiched between a storage room and a wing of the new school. It almost seemed as if they had erected the new buildings around the historic remnants. The olive press, the last, and one of the main attractions of the tour was an interesting sight to see. What could be considered a symbol of the persecutions the Indian people had to face was set up more as an essential part of mission life.
Overall, the impression I got from the mission was one a person may get when visiting a towns tourist center or attraction. What puzzled me the most was the lack of mission there seemed to be. In my past experiences with visiting missions, I have encountered a large plot of land with many buildings and structures. When I entered Mission San Buenaventura I asked myself, "is this it?". The other missions I have been to not only gave the history of the mission, but also gave a glimpse of what daily life for the missionaries and Indians must have been like.
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