Who Am I?

“Who Am I?”

My arrival at Mission San Francisco de la Espada was an unexpected one. I knew I was going there, but I had no idea how Mission Espada would make me feel. As I stepped out of the car, the sun beamed its fierce rays at me. The heat engulfed my body completely. I could feel sweat droplets creating on my forehead. I looked down at the dusty soil beneath me, and realized that the actual people who built this mission had stepped foot on this soil. In that moment I was speechless; motionless. My ancestors built this mission. They raised their families here, fought here, cried here, ate here, and lost their lives here. I always assumed that the missions were old churches, historical monuments, people could go visit. After visiting Mission Espada, I was able to understand how every wall of that structure told a story, held significance, and was still functional to today’s society.

Mission San Francisco de la Espada was established, in present day San Antonio, Texas, on March 5, 1731. It had been relocated several times due to enemies, fires, floods, fever, and limited supplies. The tour guide explained to the class how relocation wasn’t literally the building or materials. It was simply people and documents. Spanish Franciscan missionaries gathered indigenous people (Indians), and pursued to convert them to Christianity. They provided them with the skills necessary to function productively in New Spain. A new culture was born.

The mission was not only used to convert the Indians to Christianity, but as protection. It is believed that some people were forced to the missions, and some went there willingly seeking protection. The sturdy, durable walls of Mission Espada still stand today. There were numerous reasons that the Coahuiltecans sought protection, including: intruders, famine, imported diseases, enemy tribes, and they wanted a steady food supply. The mission was built to enable them with the ability to protect the mission easily. There are holes in the mission where the men would stick there ammo, and where canyons may have been.

It was fascinating to see the church. My ancestors went to this church; they prayed here. While Dora Martinez, the tour guide, explained the church and the qualities, I could feel my mind wandering. “What did they pray about? Were they sad about being here? Did they feel like prisoners, only there to survive, but slaves to the Spaniards? What were they grateful for?” There were many questions that I began asking myself. I never knew how much I cared about it, or how I felt about people who have been dead for hundreds of years.

There was so much to see inside the walls of the mission. Inside was the plaza, a place where the majority of the activities went on. The Spaniards enabled the Natives with the skills to be blacksmiths, carpenters, brick makers, farmers, and in result they were self sufficient. They even had an irrigation system, acequia, which is still a necessity to the community living around the mission today. There were many ways in which the natives accommodated themselves to the hardships and lifestyles of the Spaniards.

In result, it was a vivid and fascinating experience. I enjoyed myself far beyond what I had anticipated. I came out of the mission more knowledgeable, and with a better sense of self than when I had entered it. I am discovering who I am, and where I come from; and for that I am truly grateful. It was an incredible experience, and I encourage everyone to visit at least once.