Way back on May 4, when the temperature was 82 in Tucson, I spent some time inside the Franciscan mission of San Cayetano de Tumacacori, some 48 miles south of the city.  In the previous post, the exterior of the mission and its splendid surroundings were highlighted.

Here are some views of what lies inside.  First are the door to the foyer and the anteroom’s ceiling.

This brick seat was found in the baptistery, just to the front and left of the nave.

The nave itself served as a seating area for the congregants and ushers.

The sanctuary is still kept somewhat colourful, although it is being slowly restored.

Like many other missions and cathedrals, San Cayetano featured a high, domed ceiling.

The walls had three layers of brick.

Here are what’s left of the steps to the choir loft.

The grandeur, while faded in our time, nevertheless has kept the interest of those who look to our heritage for a sense of how to discern what works from what needs to be cast aside.

In the next two posts, I will focus on the third great piece of Spanish legacy, south of Tucson:  The still active parish of San Xavier del Wa:k (pronounced “bvak”).

The above is a lame parody of New Mexico’s slogan, “Tucumcari Tonight!”, from the 1980’s. Tumacacori, three miles southeast of Tubac, in southern Arizona, is no parody, though.  I spent about 1 1/2 hours there, a week ago Saturday, after checking out the art and history of Tubac.

Tumacacori’s mission, founded by Jesuits and later taken on by the Franciscan order, after the Jesuits were expelled from New Spain, was the reason the garrison at Tubac was built in the first place.

I have split this visit in to two posts, for simplicity’s sake.  This post focuses on the outside of the mission and its garden, orchard and annexes.   Upon arrival, one is greeted by the modern Visitor’s Center, after which a side trip to the lovely front garden is in order.

The area occupied by the Jesuit mission was right in front of the still-standing Franciscan structure.

A closer look at the facade of the later mission shows the endurance of Moorish style.

A small nun’s quarters was maintained to the east of the mission.

The compuerta was used to channel water from the nearby Santa Cruz River.

Other acequias retained water for livestock and the watering of heirloom fruit trees.

There was a large orchard, just east of the mission and convento.

To the immediate northwest of the mission, there is a cemetery and mortuary chapel.

Behind these, there lies the ruin of a storage building.

Also in the southeast sector of the grounds is a traditional Tohono and Pima dwelling:  Melhok Ki.

Above all these, the mission bell still reigns supreme.

The Presidio Museum and Otero Hall preserve the story of Tubac’s on- again, off-again Spanish settlement.  As mentioned earlier, Toribio Otero and his descendants were largely responsible for the early efforts at educating, and refining the quality of life of, both Spanish settler children and the indigenous Pima.  Don Toribio was also a farmer and rancher.

His implements for bringing water from the aquifer underneath, and for grinding corn and amaranth, were those commonly used in Spain at the time.  It is often forgotten that the west of Spain is much like our arid Southwest.  This was one of the reasons the Spanish were not put off by the climate of places like Arizona, New Mexico, west Texas and eastern California.

Here are the water pump and examples of the grindstones used in Pimeria Alta, in the Spanish era.

The Spanish did not import everything, though.  Native mesquite and ocotillo were used in construction, especially in roofing and fence-making.  Adobe was a common building block.

The living conditions of the Oteros, and other second-wave Spanish settlers in Tubac in the 1780’s, were not as comfortable as those of the great haciendas in other parts of New Spain.  The quarters were small and the furnishings sparse.

Settler women, though, made sure there were reminders of home, at least in their apparel.

Gold was always on the minds of the conquistadores, to the point that the ossuaries which held the remains of the departed, for whom coffins were regarded as a lower class repository, were made of the precious metal.

Fast forward a bit, and an American item of note in Otero Hall is a Washington hand-printing press.  It was used to print the first newspaper in Tubac (1859) and is still operational.

The Rojas House, built in 1890, was a caretaker’s residence just south of the Presidio, until the last caretaker, Luisa Rojas, died in 1989.  It is now part of the Presidio of Tubac State Park.

The Rojas yard, like many in the area, has its own shrine to the Madonna and a water trough.

After nearly three hours among the shops and in the Presidio, it was time to cross the foot bridge to Tubac Stone House,

and enjoy some lunch.

There was another treat in store, three miles down the road:  Tumacacori.

The Spanish-era fort, the ruins of a barracks, St. Ann’s Church (built over the site of Mission Santa Gertrudis), Otero Hall and the Rojas House, where the last caretaker of the Presidio lived, until her death in 1989- all comprise Arizona’s first state park:  The Presidio of Tubac.  Together with Tumacacori Mission, three miles to the southeast, the Presidio tells the story of the Spanish settlement of Pimeria Alta, already home to the Pima and Tohono people, who still live in much of southern Arizona.

I started my visit to the Presidio at St. Ann’s.

The church was built in 1916, over the foundation of Mission Santa Gertrudis, which was established by the Franciscans in 1752.  I next wandered around to the Visitors’ Center, and learned of the often sketchy relationship between the conquistadors and the indigenous Pima.  When the native people revolted in the mid- 1770’s, the Spanish abandoned the Presidio and withdrew to Tucson.

South of the center, the carefully-arranged outline of the Presidio’s original foundation gives us a fair idea about life in a Spanish barracks, in the long run-up to Mexican independence.

As with any settlement, at least one citizen had the foresight to call for the education of its children.  Toribio Otero initiated the mission-based education of Spanish and Indian children alike, when land-grant farmers returned to Tubac in 1789.  His descendants secured the first public school in Tubac,and one of Arizona’s first such schools, in 1885.

In the next post, we look at Otero Hall, named for Don Toribio, and Rojas House, which housed a pioneer and caretaker family from 1895-1989.

Just “behind” Tubac’s Main Street, to the east, is the heart of the town’s art scene:  Central Plaza.

Many southwestern towns have such an area, as do most Latin American communities.  Tubac’s plaza is ringed by several studios and shops.  At its western edge lies the Tubac Center of the Arts- a major showplace for young artists from around Santa Cruz County.

The Center adorns its entrance with colourful sidewalk tiles and a rock fountain.  There is plenty more colour inside, but alas, not to be photographed.

At the edge of the Plaza stands one of the sentinel houses of the old Spanish garrison- still preserved by the historical commission, though not officially a part of Tubac Presidio State Park.

There is a bright future for the arts in this northern tier of Arizona’s southernmost county.  It involves all media of the arts, from painting to bric-a-brac.

If you have a full day of arts and history, and don’t want to move any further until the next day, follow this path-

to this salubrious spot.

There are only two rooms, I’m told, and the price is a well-guarded secret, available only by phone.  Nonetheless, it’s on my list for “one of these days.”

Next:  Tubac Presidio, Arizona’s first state park.

• I spent last Saturday in the small southern Arizona towns of Tubac and Tumacacori, before heading back to Tucson and Sabino Canyon, for a short devotional with a friend.

  Tubac is well-known as an arts haven, as well as having been a fortress in Spanish colonial days.  This post focuses on the art scene and its various locales, along Main Street.

  One is greeted at the north entrance to Tubac by the five flags which have flown over the town:  US, Mexico, Spain, Confederacy and Arizona.  The Rebs ruled southern Arizona for about eighteen months, by default, as the Union troops were busy elsewhere.  They were driven out by California troops in 1863.  Anyway, Tubac became an art colony in the  mid-Twentieth Century.  It has drawn metallurgical artists, sculptors and painters since 1953.  Here are some scenes from Main Street.

  Casa Maya has two locations,both featuring a variety of Mexican metal work and ceramic ware.

  

  Spanish colonial styles are also ubiquitous, in both brick and adobe.  Cloud Dancer is a gallery housed in a Spanish brick garrison- style structure, complete with a bell tower.

  

  The lion figures prominently in this area’s decorative art.

  

  Later, emerging from Tubac Presidio State Historical Park (more on that later), I came upon a large emporium, La Paloma, which features the wares of Central America.

  

  Across the street from that massive series of shops lies a Bed and Breakfast named for its original occupant, Charles Poston.  He ruled the area as “representative” of the U.S. Government, with an iron fist, during the middle decade of the 19th Century- even being called “Colonel” by the local settlers.  Poston left Tubac when the mine which drew him there closed in 861.  Poston House is still a thriving establishment.

  

  The next post will focus on Tubac’s Central Plaza, east of downtown.

   

So was the Franciscan outreach to the Payomkawichum people of what is now northern San Diego and southern Orange Counties called by those who settled in its wake.  The proper name of the outpost is Mission San Luis Rey de Francia, after the sainted King Louis IX, of France.  The Payom became known to their European overseers as “Luisenos”.

The mission, located roughly halfway between San Diego and San Juan Capistrano, became a major administrative center for the Franciscans, and, in time, for the Spanish army in California.  It lies today in the eastern part of the military and tourist-oriented community we call Oceanside.  Mission San Luis Rey de Francia is indeed a fine complement to the many attractions of Oceanside’s very attractive beachfront.  It is also far enough off the main tourist routes, that one may walk for several hours in peace and quiet, meditating in the cemetery grounds or in the Retreat Garden, so long as you don’t disturb the paying guests of the retreat.

I first went to the cemetery grounds, finding myself alone with the spirits of Luisenos and Espanoles long departed.  Monsignor O’Malley revitalized San Luis Rey as a parish church, about a century ago.  So more recently departed residents of east Oceanside are laid to rest here as well.

The fountain provides a nice spot for the living to offer their thoughts.

Like many old Spanish missions, this establishment has a large historic church, in need of repair.  Fortunately, the repairs are well underway.  They don’t lend themselves to eye-popping photography, but that will come later.

Outside the historic church, features common to the Spanish architecture of the 18th Century are found in abundance.  Here are the exposed beams of the outer walkway’s ceiling, both rounded and square arches and the wooden frame covering a church window.

The meditation garden in the Retreat Section is shown above, lower left, and below.

A water cistern is found in the middle of the meditation garden, and was used to sustain the earliest cultivated flora at Mission San Luis Rey.

In the book, “The Bridge of San Luis Rey”, Junipero speculates that there is a world of the living and a world of the dead.  He concludes that the bridge between the two worlds is Love.  There was a fair amount of love, and service, shown and accomplished in several of the Spanish missions- as much as these were tempered by elements of self- interest and national greed.  Mission San Luis Rey de Francia, along with the other Spanish missions I have seen in California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas and Florida, shows mostly the former.

It had been about 1 3/4 years since I first visited Newport Beach’s Crystal Cove State Beach, about 3 miles south of downtown NB.  Crystal Cove State Park has three main features:  The beach itself; the cottages along the beach’s periphery and the semi-arid canyons which lead up into the coastal hills.  With my friend Janet, who lives in the area, I made a second exploration of the first two on the morning of April 1.  The beach was experiencing a rising tide, the opposite of what we had seen the first time I was here, in the Fall of 2011, just after I had brought my son to San Diego Naval Base for his tour of duty, which is now approaching the end of Year 2.

I walked down to the beach, from Los Trancos Parking Area, using an underpass, which has a delightful series of murals, mostly painted by Newport Beach school children.

The Los Trancos area has a few short trails of its own, with pleasant coastal hill scenery.

The tunnel is safe and scenic, as well.

Along the beach, I found limestone and shale rocks, with various degrees of barnacles, lichen and moss growing atop, and in the crevices.

The last photo shows a rock which could have been used as currency, back in the days of huge stones representing extreme wealth.

The drought in SoCal is far from over, yet I saw more vegetation here this time, than in October, 2011.

The cliff on the right was barren last time, and I explored its crevices, imagining the Luiseno people using it for a seasonal residence, in pre-Spanish days.

The cottages, as Janet has mentioned, are in disrepair on the north side of the restaurant.  There has been serious deterioration, over the past two years.

The flowers, however, are showing California resilience.

I plan to re-visit the area in October, 2014, and stay for 2-3 days in one of the cottages that is still available for overnight rent.