On a Mission

On the advice of our real estate agent (more on that in a bit) we decided to check out the City of San Gabriel. Despite living as close to it as we do, I don't believe any of us had ever really done more than just pass through town.

So we decided to begin at the beginning, at the Mission San Gabriel Arcangel. As with most California cities that start with 'San,' this one began as a Catholic mission to convert the heathen (i.e. local indigenous folks minding their own business, in this case the Tongva, who were eventually renamed the Gabrielinos) to Catholicism. The first step in the process was to build a mission, or church complex, to centralize the missionaries' efforts. These missions were constructed about a day's journey from each other and served as trading posts and indoctrination centers. (Come for the shiny metal objects, stay for the glorious afterlife!) The steps following the building of the mission might seem familiar to those who know something of the history of Soviet collectivism or antebellum cotton plantations in the southern U.S.

Father Junipero Serra:

Anyway, the mission in San Gabriel still stands and still functions as a church, but is also open as a museum for those interested in California's history. (It seems to gloss over the similarities noted above, although one docent did note that life was hard for the Tongva/Gabrielinos.)

The bell tower from the inside:

We toured the grounds, which have been restored after falling victim to a number of earthquakes over the years, most recently the 1987 Whittier Narrows quake (curiously, no mention was made of these events as Acts of God, or of what He may have been trying to communicate.). It was a pleasant afternoon, and we took our time walking the grounds, which are inside a walled enclave next to a rather busy intersection. The church itself is modest, as are the grounds. Tessie enjoyed the dirt, but soon tired of the paparazzo (me):

Near the end of the self-guided tour, surrounded by models of all 21 California Missions, is this sundial with its inspiring message: "Horae Omnes Vulnerant, Ultima Necat." In case your Latin's rusty, that translates to "Every Hour Wounds, The Last Kills." Cheery, these missionaries. (And no, my Latin isn't that good - there was a translation posted.)

Meanwhile, about the real estate: Tessie's getting bigger, and our apartment isn't. We met yesterday with an agent who will be helping us search for new accommodations. Her first recommendation to us was to consider San Gabriel, hence today's visit. We had two open houses on our list, both gleaned from today's LA Times. We only made it to one, a four bedroom (three plus an office, really), two bath house. It had a nice backyard, if you didn't look over the hedge at the dirt lot with the giant radio transmitters in it; a deck with uneven boards covering the hole where the hot tub used to be and which is accessed only through the master bedroom; visible evidence, in the form of a clutch of eggs, of insect activity in the closets; and a driveway seemingly designed to funnel all rainwater directly into the garage. Hmmm. All this for the low, low price of...

... two-thirds of a million dollars. U.S. dollars.

It's going to be a long, tedious, disheartening house hunt.