It was a beautiful day and all I could think about was how much I did not want to go into class. I hated everything about history. I could not believe that I had to take the History of California. I wish I could get out of it somehow. As I walked into class with a lovely sun beating down my face and birds chirping around me, all that my brain would allow me to process is how much I knew I would loathe this lecture. I climbed up the plain steps to where my schedule told me class would be and I opened the cool handle. I finally sat down in the outdated, uncomfortable chair and waited for the wretched lecture to begin.

I had to get out of that class. I hated it so much. Call me a brat, but it was absolutely boring and I would rather have watched grass grow than listen about some Indians and some missions. I thought the History of California was going to tell me about my favorite Hollywood stars and the glitz and the glamour of it all. Boy was I wrong. I went straight home and into bed. As I cuddled cozily with my pillow-pet to try to get the annoying thoughts about returning to class tomorrow, I slowly fell asleep.

I instantly woke up once I felt the cool air surround me. I screamed out loud and looked around and I could instantly tell I was not in my room. I had read all about sleep paralysis and this was not the right time to call my counselor to complain about something else in my daily life. I rubbed my eyes and as they started to adjust to my new landscape.

The faint sound of waves splashing caught my attention. That's what the cool air was! A cool ocean breeze! I took solace in the khaki colored patchy grass and sat down as I tried to figure out where I was. As I relaxed, I heard the sound of huge foot steps coming my way. An enormous armadillo looking thing in the distance was casually walking and eating. Where was I?!?! I stared in wonder at the giant casually eat the most vegetation I had ever seen consumed in my life. In a flash, I saw a group of small, dark humans pounce around the animal and with sharp spears and knives, hunt the it down. I was scared that they would spot me, but I could not help but watch how they tore the animal apart in order to make the most of it. As I watched on, I noticed one of the small, dark people spotted at me, pointed at me and began to sprint towards me. I closed my eyes shut and prayed and prayed to wake up from this nightmare.

My prayers were answered, but I still did not know where I was. As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw nothing but black around me. A booming voice shocked me even more. “What you just saw was the Clovis people of Santa Rosa Island. What you just experienced was the typical hunting of a Glyptodon. The Clovis people were dated about 13 thousand calendar years before present. They were 'the first human rulers of Los Angeles' who established themselves at the top of the food chain and played a vital part in shaping the ecology of the resource rich land,” the voice boomed. (Ethington, Regime I: Clovis Conquest: First Peoples and Megafaunal Extinction. ~13,000 calendar years Before Present​) I tried backing up in the darkness and I cried, “Who are you! I want to go home.” The loud voice cackled and stated, “Why I am the ghost of California's past. You will never be able to see me, but I know all about you. I know you hate history and what better way to show you how to appreciate your state's land than to experience it yourself. The only way to be able to go home is once you get a taste of how the place you take for granted came to be and once you truly appreciate it.” This had to be a bad joke. I was too scared to object so I agreed to experience the history of California.

A gust of wind encompassed my body and I felt as if I was swirling through time. Soon enough, I fell onto my feet and to my surprise, I fell into a movie theater seat with a huge screen in front of me. I thought I was learning about the history of California, not sitting in a dumb movie. All I wanted was to go home. All of a sudden, the screen lit up and I saw a man who looked like one of those conquistadores from the cover of one of my history books filled up the screen. For the first time in my life, a movie about history had never seemed so interesting. The man was on a ship called the Santa Salvador in 1542. The subtitles described the man as Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo who was called on by authority of the Viceroy of New Spain to map out what is now the harbor of San Diego. He was approaching the land and a plethora of tiny dark people began to crowd the shore with items in their hands. When the ship was anchored down, the little people came upon the ship and started exchanging gifts with the lighter skinned sailors. Everyone looked pleased and it was clear that Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo was proud to claim the island for the King. He mentioned that it was the Crown's land now and he returned to the choppy waves to continue up to shore. (Hackel, Spaniards, 31)

The screen shifted to a different scene where Cabrillo landed on a different island. It was the San Miguel island and blood and gore terminated the movie with a different group of Indians attacking the sailors. I was thrilled that I did not have to be there in live action to see people getting killed. (Hackel, Spaniards, 32) The booming voice of the ghost shook the entire room. “My learning child. What you have seen so far is one of the first contacts that the Europeans had with California. After this time, laws were passed in Spain to protect Indians from enslavement. As much as we both would like to believe that the world is perfect, we must continue to learn. Other Europeans explored California and began to bring in crops for cultivation, but a large disease epidemic struck thousands of natives as well as colonists. California proved to be a very difficult place to settle in. The next two centuries entailed visits from pirates and traders, but it was not for a while that Europeans settled in Alta California.” (Hackel, Spaniards, 41) I nodded, trying to retain all of the information. I was terrified at the thought that California was not always the beautiful place I thought it was.

The gust of wind picked me up by my feet and I swirled through the air rigorously. I landed on a patch of green grass. I looked up and I saw a man staring directly at me. “Hello. You may be surprised that I speak English, but I've been dead for many years now. There's a lot to learn. I am the Tomyaar of one of the Utoaztecan societies. We are the Gabrielinos. I shall guide you through my land so you can learn about us before I must go off.” 

I stared at the dark man and he extended his hand to guide me through what he said was the Los Angeles Basin. I saw other Gabrielinos walking by with little rabbits they had just hunted. The Tomyaar began to speak, looking away into the distance. “We here hunt, fish and gather. We trade and our money is in shell strings.” I looked at him with wide confused eyes, not knowing what to say because several Gabrielinos would come up to him and bring him baskets full of food. “If you're wondering, which I know you are, I am the Tomyaar. I must say, I do sit on top of what you people call the aristocracy. I am the chief.' Beneath me is the Shaman, he was given power by the spirit giver. After that are the craftsmen, the less educated hunters and gatherers and the slaves that we have taken in war,” he said. I decided to gain the courage to ask a question, for fear that I would have to stay on their land for the rest of my life (Ethington, Native California Lecture). I asked, “Do you have a religion?” He stopped chewing and he looked up at me with a great big grin. “Why of course. Our very own Chinigchinich teaches us the ethical laws of such aspects of life like behavior and economic relations. Would you like to participate in the Yovaar?” I had no idea what this man was talking about, but I was thinking that this history lesson could be worse.

The Yovaar seemed to me like a very interesting dance. A large group of people who wanted to communicate with Chinigchinich rendered around in a sacred enclosure. It was described to me by the Gabrielinos as the best way to reach Chinigchinich. They remind me of my zumba classes. As soon as I was about to talk to the Tomyaar about other aspects of the Uto-Aztecan culture, I was swirled into the air again and I felt like I was soaring through time.

I put my hands in my pockets and I was tensing up in the harsh winds again. A small brown lady with grayish black hair, beads around her neck and a serious face was staring me down as soon as I looked up. I stared at her and she stared back at me. “Hi,” I said cautiously. “Hello there. My name's Mary Ike. Would you like to hear a story?” I slowly nodded. She looked at me and cleared her throat. “There was once a little Blowfy. He had so so much deer meat at his house. He dried and smoked it. There was just so much fat on that deer meat. There was Coyote. He came along because heard the Blowfly had a lot of meat and asked for some. He ate so much and even made a pillow out of the fat so he could take a bite out of it if he got hungry in the middle of the night. The Blowfly went hunting the next day and Coyote followed to see where he got the delicious fat from. The Blowfly ordered a deer to open his rectum and he crawled right in and got out a huge chunk of fat. Coyote was amazed as he wanted to go hunting too. He asked the Fly if he could go hunting too and the Fly instructed him that if he goes, he absolutely cannot cut off the big ball of fat hanging there.” This was honestly the weirdest story ever. Mary continued on and said, “Coyote followed his footsteps, but he made one big mistake. When he crawled in the deer's rectum, he cut out out the big ball of dangling fat because he assumed he would be able to get out quickly enough since his foot was sticking out. As soon as he cut it off, the deer closed up his rectum and Coyote was trapped. The deer ran up and over the hill and the Blowfly was like, 'I told you not to do that!' The Coyote looked sad. The fly just told him, 'You will only live on gopher meat for the rest of your life.'”(Kroeber and Gifford, Karok Myths, 172) I cracked a smile and me and Mary laughed for hours as she told me more myths about the Karoks. 

“How are you liking this learning lesson? It gets tragic from here darling,” the ghost echoed as I felt like a plastic bag soaring through the air. “Before I introduce you to the Franciscans, it is my duty to tell you what went on in California history before their time. The Jesuits were establishing missions along the California coast in the late 1600s. However, the Crown grew weary of their stance in California because their missions were unorganized. The Spanish Crown was depending on religion to expand their territory at the time. In order to secure many of our precious California resources like fur pelts from other countries, Jose De Galvez was the leading force in occupying the state.” I gulped. (Hackel, Spaniards, 40)

I could feel the ghost's sadness in his voice when he spoke about the Franciscans. I hope that what I was about to see would not scar me for life. I was on a grassy field. I could see livestock in the distance. What seemed to be a vineyard was also in my view, but I had to squint my eyes to see it. I instantly felt my heart beat extremely fast when I heard the ghost's voice again. “You are currently on the Mision San Gabriel Arcangel. The Franciscans who came did not tolerate many traditions.” I felt so sad. “The Franciscans came under the order of the Spanish Crown to take over the Jesuits missions. What you see right here was an absolute death trap. The man who guided the Franciscans was Junipero Serra. The Franciscan missions brought forth tragic changes. The land was so ravished by the introduction of many animals that by the 18th century, some Indians were left with no choice but to join a mission because they would probably starve without it. The Franciscans were not only violent to the Indians, but these missions were filled with terrible diseases and horrible punishments for not following Christianity. The Indians suffered.”(Ethington, Phil. Regime IV: Spanish Franciscan Theocracy [1769-1822]) It was a terrifying thing to be standing there. 

My environment changed yet again. I turned around and saw a dark skinned man with black hair looking right at me. “You may not be familiar with me. My name is Pablo Tac. I am a Luiseno Indian. My experience was quite different from many on this land, but I am here to show you through both.” I walked with him. We were surrounded by chirping birds and the day was so sunny, it did not seem to me that there could be anything bad about this place. Pablo began to tell me his story. “I grew up a Luiseno, was baptized as a baby and I was a really good student as a kid. I got to go to Rome to study,” he said calmly. (Hewes, Indian Life and Customs at Mission San Luis Rey, 140)

What was now in front of me was a priest writing and I could only hear him muttering words. I do not think he could see me at all. I think this was the Junipero Serra that the ghost told me about! “'Most excellent lord,'” he wrote. He was talking as he was writing. “The San Diego Mission was destroyed. They set fire to the church and two ministers have passed.” I wondered what he was talking about so I crept in closer to get a better listen. “Gentiles and neophytes set fire to the church and later two guards were injured. They are fine now, but I am upset that so many were hurt and many of the church's valuables are now gone. Please forgive them, but send us more soldiers. They are the most important aspect here,” he said while writing.  (Chan and Olin, Father Junipero Serra Reports the Destruction of the San Diego Mission, 1775) My eyes grew wide. 

“Hello! I'm Lorenzo Asisara and I need to tell you a story about what happened during the assassination of a priest in 1812. The Santa Cruz Indians did it,” the man said looking at me inquisitively. My surroundings had changed again. “My father told me this story. Conspirators who wanted to kill Father Quintana met at the house of the gardener who pretended to be ill. Another Indian who was once whipped by him wanted vengeance. That Saturday, they went off to tell the Father that the gardener was dying. The first plan to kill him did not work but they fetched him again. When he was returning back, men jumped out from behind two trees to seize him. At this time, they spoke to him. No words worked for the Father and the men strangled him and 'took a testicle.' Soon after, the conspirators celebrated and went back to check to see if he was dead or not. He was beginning to revive himself so they crushed the other testicle and he died. The assassins eventually got caught because their wives grew so jealous of each other. They ended up getting sent to San Francisco and those convicted received 50 lashes. The others did not get in trouble because there was no proof that they were part of it all. Everyone ended up returning to the missions, but the Fathers were still always so cruel to the Indians. They all worked like slaves and were fed and dressed poorly. The Fathers did not practice what they were assumed to live by in the scripture.” (Chan and Olin, Lorenzo Asisara Narrates the Assassination of a Priest by Santa Cruz Indians, 1812) Once Lorenzo told me this, I grew so sad.

Finally, I heard the ghost's booming voice once again. “Hello. Now that I am with you again, some time has passed since you heard about the assassination of the Catholic priest. I am hear now to describe to you the secularization of the missions. Beginning in 1813, the authority of the missions was transferred from the religious to the civil authorities. Many Indians had been deserting and the missions themselves were just succumbing to ruins. Ultimately, Mexican independence was the event that made the missions all come down. The missions were secularized in 1834. The missions were confiscated the Franciscans were exiled. The land was supposed to be returned to the Indians, but the sad truth is that they were actually put to work on many rancherias where indigenous culture and mestizos developed. When 1846 came along, rancheros were the ones who owned most land due to their property and abundance of cattle. Indian labor was still beneficial to the rancheros because they needed people to develop hides for leather.”(Chan and Olin, Mexican California: A Study in Contrasts) I took all in the information he was telling me and agreed.

I could not wait to get home and share of all of this information and pour all of my knowledge into my studies. If only I knew when this would all be done.
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Bibliography
Ethington, Native California Lecture.
Ethington, Phil. "Regime I: Clovis Conquest: First Peoples and Megafaunal Extinction. ~13,000 calendar years Before Present (BP)." Ghost Metropolis: Los Angeles from Clovis to Nixon. Accessed, September 24, 2015. URL: http://scalar.usc.edu/works/ghost-metropolis-2016/ab-urbe-condita
Ethington, Phil. "Regime IV: Spanish Franciscan Theocracy (1769 – 1822)." Ghost Metropolis: Los Angeles from Clovis to Nixon. Accessed, September 24, 2015. URL: http://scalar.usc.edu/works/ghost-metropolis-2016/regime-iv-spanish-franciscan-theocracy-1769-1822
Hackel, Steven W. "Spaniards," in Children of Coyote, Missionaries of Saint Francis: Indian-Spanish Relations in Colonial California, 1769-1850. (Williamsburg, University of North Carolina Press, 2005), 31, 32,40, 41.
A. L. Kroeber and E.W. Gifford. Karok Myths. (University of California Press, n.d.) 172.
Minna and Gorden Hewes. "Indian Life and Customs at Mission San Luis Rey." (New York, Garland Publishing, 1991) 140.
Chan and Olin. "Mexican California: A Study in Contrasts." (University of California, Santa Barbara and University of California, Irvine, n.d.) 84-99.
Chan and Olin. Lorenzo Asisara Narrates the Assassination of a Priest by Santa Cruz Indians, 1812.  (University of California, Santa Barbara and University of California, Irvine, n.d.) 84-99.63-69.
Chan and Olin. Father Junipero Serra Reports the Destruction of the San Diego Mission, 1775. (University of California, Santa Barbara and University of California, Irvine, n.d.) 60-62.