Siteline | Mission Accomplished

Ever since building a sugar-cube diorama of a mission in fourth grade, the way California students did back in the day, I haven’t had a whole lot of interest in the missions. The history is problematic, to say the least, and organized religion makes me itchy. But the Old Mission Santa Barbara is undeniably beautiful. So when my husband’s Aunt Tracey was in town—she has visited here several times, and there’s not a lot left to discover—we suggested it as a possible excursion.

I had been on the grounds once before, years ago, but only to the gift shop when a friend wanted to buy a postcard. We must have walked right by the lavanderia, a basin for washing clothes. I surely would’ve remembered the charming stone animals at each end, believed to have been carved by Chumash mason Paciano Guilajahichet.

Tickets are $17 (less for seniors, kids, etc.), and guided tours are available on certain days. We opted for the self-guided option; there are QR codes throughout the grounds that play audio, but we were satisfied with reading the displays. The text on the back of the map gets right to the heart of the matter, noting that “the overall impact of the Mission Era on Indigenous communities in California was devastating.”

The route starts in a handsome courtyard called the Sacred Garden. “The fountain in the center is a Mission Era cistern” and “the drainage channel on the other side of the railing [is] a Mission Era feature designed to draw water away from the adobe Convento building and channel it down to the site of the former fields and the Mission’s Chumash village.”

I loved the little figure of a friar pointing the way. Seeing an actual friar in person is not out of the question: “Old Mission Santa Barbara is the only mission of the 21 in California that has been continuously occupied by Franciscan friars.” As for the “Siau Benvingut” tile, I figured it was some Latin phrase relevant to Catholicism, but it actually means “welcome” in Catalan.

We skipped the room of displays that seemed aimed at field-tripping students. The Mission is certainly a ripe place to think about how we handle history—particularly the regrettable parts—and the role of historians. Any regime seeking absolute power can’t abide dissenting views, which makes historians canaries in the coal mine, politically speaking. (Along with journalists and children’s book authors, among others.)

The church, which has grown over the decades, is beautiful—and a vivid contrast to the less ornate one at the Presidio.

Two nooks near the narthex—I just learned that word and am delighted to use it—feature sculptures of Jesus and Mary Magdalene on one side…

…and St. Francis and St. Clare, both of Assisi.

The dramatic molding on the ceiling looks more Native American than Franciscan.

Signs point out that the church is very much in use today and ask visitors to be respectful. The font looks empty, but it’s filled with water as some people might have discovered by touching it.

Next stop: the cemetery, evocative and moving in the way that cemeteries are.

The description of how burial practices have changed over time brought to mind the extensive underground ossuary in Paris. Designating space for remains is an extraordinary luxury, if you think about it.

The mausoleum is also still in use. A niche for two urns runs from $8,500 to $44,000, depending on the location. Am I the only one who thinks it’s funny that a slot near the window costs more?

I’m of the belief that when we die, we’re gone, and what happens to our bodies doesn’t really matter. (Fingers crossed I’m right about that.) I do like the idea of my remains being returned to the earth—not in a cemetery, but in a more natural way. And I thought this Chumash sentiment was lovely. “Walk Softly over the Land; Beneath it, the Ancestors Sleep” is as good a reason as any to be better stewards of the environment.

Speaking of the environment, we admired several plants, including a flowering cactus and a fern with spores that call to mind Candy Buttons.

The centerpiece of the cemetery is a massive Moreton Bay fig tree, planted in 1890.

I was tempted to add this bit of botanical detritus to my collection, but I figured I should leave it for others to possibly enjoy. (Apologies for the blur.)

After the cemetery, the tour heads back inside to a series of exhibition rooms. The display below seems like it comes a little late in the tour. Overall, however, I thought the Mission does an admirable job of providing context for what happened there, while taking great care to treat the Chumash history and culture with respect.

A highlight of any historical site—including over at the Presidio—is the sense you get of how people lived, such as in the kitchen.

The patina throughout the complex is delightful.

Here’s an even more vivid depiction of the passing of time: renderings that show how the area looked in 1833.

I had heard of churches blessing animals, but not motorcycles. If the Mission still does it, perhaps e-bikes could be invited, too.

This board had no explanation of what the pins are for. We assumed visitors use them to mark their hometowns, but two from Antarctica?

Naturally, you exit through the gift shop. I was tickled by the Franciscan wine bottle covers (so you can hide the bottle while in public?); the candles with Saint Barbara, who resembles Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman; and the St. Joseph Home Selling Kit. Whatever works!

The shop also carries non-religious souvenirs, including Ojai Jelly’s excellent tangerine marmalade. It’s more sweet than bitter, but delicious nonetheless.