Baja Missions in the news

From the OC Register 5/20/2007:

DavidK sure gets around.....

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http://www.ocregister.com/ocregister/news/local/article_1700824.php

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The missions of Baja California

The historic Spanish colonial compounds don't stop at the California border

By MARLA JO FISHER
THE ORANGE COUNTY REGISTER

My son is in fourth grade, the year that California students begin to learn about the missions built up and down the state during the Spanish colonial era.

I recently mentioned to his teacher that we were going on vacation to the quaint little town of Loreto, in Baja California, and would be visiting two different missions on the trip.

In fact, Loreto was the very first Spanish mission built in the Californias that survives today. It was begun in 1697, has a beautiful stone church and is nicely restored.

Did she want my son to keep a journal and report to the class when he got back?

"That would be great," his teacher said, and then she stopped short. "Wait a minute. You mean you're going to Mexico?"

"Yes, that's right."

"OK, well, he can give the report," she replied. "But he just shouldn't mention the part about Mexico."

"You do realize the missions here don't just stop at the border," I replied. "In fact, the first missions were built down south and the friars worked their way up."

"Oh yes," she said. "But we don't talk about that. It's not in the book."

As a matter of fact, I looked at my kid's textbook, and it does mention in sort of an offhand way that there are some missions down south.

But the idea that Spanish colonial missions exist only in California is so ingrained in people's minds that it came as a surprise to me years ago that the Spanish friars built dozens of such compounds before they headed north.

Today, many of the original missions in Baja California have been restored to their former beauty, while some are mere piles of melted adobe.

Others are "lost," meaning that their existence is mentioned in old Spanish texts, but there is doubt about where they were located.

Author Earl Stanley Gardner, who wrote the Perry Mason series, was one of those who extensively explored the peninsula's back country, seeking the lost missions.

Today, my friend David Kier of Oceanside is among a loose confederation of desert rats who amuse themselves by continuing the search.

This sounds so darn romantic that I have been tempted to join them, but the reality is that these four-wheel-drive expeditions entail too much dust and sweat, too much desert heat, and hard driving on rocky roads that rip up my tires.

So I'm content to let them go tooling around, while I make it to the missions that have already been found and restored.

My favorite among those I've visited to date is at San Javier, located high in the Sierra de la Giganta mountains east of Loreto.

While it's never been lost, it does feel like you've stepped back in time to visit this beautiful basilica, located in a tiny hamlet two hours off the highway, accessible only by dirt road.

The road climbs and climbs into the mountains, yielding spectacular vistas of the azure Sea of Cortez behind you, until finally you reach the village of San Javier.

Entering the village, you pass a large stone cross set into the cobblestones of the town's only street. At the end of the lane is the spectacular volcanic stone Misión San Francisco Javier Viggé Biaundó, one of the most beautifully intact and restored mission churches in Mexico.

Its gilded altarpiece was sent from Mexico City in 32 boxes, carried by mules all the way up into the mountains.

If the church is locked when you arrive, it's easy to find the caretaker among the handful of houses that dot the only street.

Behind the church are the remnants of the ancient mission garden, with a 300-year-old olive tree and the original stone aqueduct.

The original mission at San Javier was built five miles away; this church was constructed beginning in 1744 by the Jesuit order of priests.

Establishing a colony for Spain

The Jesuits were the first order of priests sent from Spain, beginning in 1697, to establish a series of missions in Baja after attempts to colonize the peninsula by military might failed because of resistance from the local Indians.

The mission venture was much more successful in spreading both Christianity and Spanish rule, at least for the Spaniards, though ultimately not for the Indians, most of whom died from European diseases like measles and smallpox.

Ultimately, the tribes of 50,000 natives who lived on the Baja peninsula dwindled to some 1,800 under the mission system.

Missionary padres, with soldier escorts, were instructed to find sites with water, firewood and good farmland, since the mission endeavors had to be self-supporting, and convert enough local Indians to help them build a church and to farm. The priests brought the first European livestock, fruits and vegetables to the area.

The goal was to build each mission a long day's horseback ride from another mission. Centuries later, the Mexican government would repeat that process in Baja California, by building La Pinta hotels one day's drive from each other along the newly paved transpeninsular highway.

The aim was the same, to give travelers a safe, comfortable place to stay and provide communication each way.

The Spaniards built thatched huts on arrival, then marked out the spot for the church and the mission's other activities, including living quarters for priests and soldiers; kitchens; workshops; and storerooms.

Then, they had to convince the local Indian tribes, generally using sign language, to change their ways, give up polygamy, end their desert nomad lifestyle, convert to Christianity and build the compound. When deemed necessary, converts were whipped up to 25 times but "never more than once a day," according to the Catholic Encyclopedia.

In some cases the Indians resisted with force, killing two friars with arrows and clubs.

With tenacity, the Spaniards convinced other Indians to work in the missions, where they were either willing workers or abused slaves, depending on your political views.

Buildings were constructed out of whatever local materials could be found. Today, adobe buildings have largely melted down. Some stone churches were destroyed by earthquakes, but others are in excellent condition.

Jesuit priests founded 18 missions over the first 70 years on this original portion of El Camino Real. However, in 1768 the Spanish king ordered the Jesuits to leave their New Spain posts after hearing rumors that they had amassed huge fortunes.

They were replaced by the Franciscans, including the famed and controversial Father Junipero Serra.

Later, after Serra headed north to establish missions in Alta California, Dominican priests arrived in Baja and established more missions. After Mexico won its independence from Spain in 1821, the missions became parish churches.

Still parish churches

One thing I enjoy about visiting Baja missions is that they aren't just museums. They continue to live and breathe as churches in an almost exclusively Catholic area that generally remains rural.

It's also nearly always hot, so stepping into the coolness of a big stone church feels delicious.

On one visit to Loreto, I sat quietly in the back of the church while a group of babies was baptized.

Most recently, we arrived on the steps of the church in San Ignacio to discover a funeral was in progress. I wanted my kids to see this, so we waited under the shade of a lemon tree in the courtyard while the pallbearers carried out the casket and loaded it onto the back of a pickup truck. The mourners then followed the pickup truck to the graveyard on foot.

This gave me a chance to explain to my kids about rural funerals, where there's no undertaker so family members handle all the details themselves, including driving the deceased to his grave on a truck bed.

After all the mourners had gone, we went into the church itself and marveled over its baroque gilded and painted altarpiece.

While I've visited all the must-see missions in Baja, I still haven't made it to those closest to the U.S., including one in Rosarito Beach.

I almost went to see the ruins of a mission in San Borja, which requires driving in from Bahia de Los Angeles on a jeep road, but the friend I was following was driving like he was in the Baja 500 and I soon lost him.

So that adventure will have to wait for another day. Exploring Baja missions is interesting precisely because they exist as time capsules. Unlike most California missions, which have modern cities built up around them, missions in Baja generally retain their bucolic quality, allowing you to imagine friars walking around in long robes and soldiers carrying muskets.

And who knows? Maybe one of these days I'll go on one of those lost mission hunts.