It has taken me this long to sit down and write a post about the rest of the day’s happenings in Salt Lake, because Elizabeth and I had to go eat dinner at an Outback Steakhouse just to decompress.
Now that some BBQ chicken and a chocolate sundae are behind me, I’m ready to get into it.
So, after the Starbucks we decided to grab lunch and were instructed to head toward the oldest restaurant in Salt Lake, a little place called Lamb’s. On the way we pulled out our map, because despite the city being set up in a perfect grid we nonetheless became horribly lost, and something happened that we had both been waiting for.
“Excuse me, but can I help you ladies find something?”
We both turned to see a straw haired man with a toothy grin pulling out his earbuds. He was wearing a tracksuit and had clearly put a pause on his jog to help us out. There was nothing flirtatious about his approach, nothing that said he wanted anything from us, this was pure Mormon hospitality at its finest.
After he pointed us in the right path, Elizabeth told me that there are reasons you don’t see Mormons wearing crosses. It’s not because they don’t believe in Jesus, they do, but it’s more a standard that they don’t want a crucifix to define who they are. Instead, a Mormon should be definable by their everyday behavior so that any gentile person (such as ourselves) can spot them without the helpful hints of jewelry. This man was a prime example of what their religion is going for in terms of definition by behavior, and it was very charming and I wish people in LA were friendly like this (but not necessarily Mormon).
Okay, so we get to Lamb’s and it’s just so old and adorable and filled with antiques; maroon leather booths and carved ceilings, a big old Christmas tree in the center of the place, and a long bar with cakes and pies behind frosted glass. We eat, it was yummy, whatever- let’s get to the good stuff.
After lunch, Elizabeth and I hustle ourselves over to the Joseph Smith Memorial Building. It’s near Temple Square, so we assume it will have some interesting historical elements, and we’re excited to hit our first Mormon destination. When we got to the lobby there were massive chandeliers suspended above our heads, thick marble pillars, and floating head statues of Mormon dignitaries (see above pic). The place was cold in terms of friendliness, at best. A gift shop attendant snarled at me as I purchased a Joseph Smith bookmark, we walked towards the building’s bistro only to have waiters turn their backs to us, in a panic we darted outside and past a gaggle of men taking down Christmas ornaments who seemed excited to have the holidays behind them. It was not a good start.
Nonethless, once outside we found ourselves staring at the front of the Salt Lake Temple, a massive Gothic tribute to pointy spires and round windows. A wedding with at least fifty people gathered on the temple steps was taking place outside, and I hurriedly snapped a photo before we ducked inside the gates. We decided to head to the south visitor’s center where they have historic artifacts, assuming it might be fun to go on a guided tour and get a feel for the place. We had spent a good 10 minutes working up our back story before going in, “Okay, so I have cousins in Provo and we are both visting, and we aren’t Mormon but we’re curious.”
The lobby was empty, just us and animatronic simulations of the Angel Maroni and Mormon pioneers crossing in covered wagons. We found a children’s corner where you could press a button that stated plainly, “What happens when you die?” and get a videotaped response of a Mormon child explaining that the soul leaves the body and joins the heavenly father. But what I found most interesting was this elaborate doll-house like replica of the Salt Lake Temple (pic to the left). It had doll furniture (?), and exact recreations of the rooms within the temple which, traditionally, gentile eyes are not intended to see. It was elaborate and detailed but also child-like and gaudy.
After our fill of the visitors center, we wandered over to the Museum of Church History & Art, a place where artifacts and histroical gems from the Mormon religion are housed. A well-meaning older gentleman greeted us with a map, “We have some wonderful exhibits this month, including an art section from some Latin American folks…”
As we wandered through the museum we got to see an original page from the Joseph Smith dictations when he found the golden plates… seriously. We also saw covered wagons, quilts stitched with human hair (yes), paintings that replicated historical moments in Mormon history, and the death face mask of Joseph Smith (so, dude was killed and they put clay over his face and we got to see the ensuing product, a sort of Mormon mummy mask).
It was all really interesting and so very unique. The Mormon religion is still relatively new, so their artifacts are recent and in great condition.
But it was cold outside, and once we were through touring the museum we had to find another warm place to store our bodies. We discovered the north visitors center, which was substantially larger and brimming with Mormon missionaries. A Hawaiian gal named Annie led us to their movie theater to watch a film called “The Testaments,” which she assured us was truly great. As we went to take a seat she paused to ask, “Are you part of the church?” to which we both responded with a solid no and got to use our make believe story of family in Provo and an inclination towards learning more about the faith.
“Well,” she lit up, “the Mormon religion has changed my life for the better, I mean, I’m not trying to convert you but it has made such a difference.” She handed us both cards and asked us to fill them out with our name, phone, and address so she could send us a free copy of the Book of Mormon!
“Oh… okay,” I said and quickly created a pseudonym.
We sat down and the theater went dark. For the next 56 minutes, we watched as ancient Aztecs located “somewhere in the Americas” and Jesus Christ, whom the film never refers to by name but instead references as “The Christ” and “The Savior,” somehow intertwine to create two parallel story lines that end with Jesus appearing in a beam of light on the steps of an Aztec temple (movie still to the left).
It was fucked, and we felt scared that Annie would come back for us, so we ran like hell towards the nearest exit. On our way out we had to traverse back through the Joseph Smith building and made the horrifying error in judgement of asking a kindly elderly woman where we could find the parking garage. She followed us down a hall, into an elevator, and past the doors into the garage to a point where I reached for my pepper spray and considered macing her eyes just enough so we could jump into the Prius and get the hell out of there.
Thankfully she left us alone once we said we were from California. We drove and drove and drove back to Provo, trying to figure out exactly why we had felt so terrified the whole day, why our necks were tight, and why we felt sick to our stomaches.
Here are my thoughts:
Salt Lake felt exactly the way I thought all of Utah would. It was completely and utterly Mormon, and being a non-believer there felt like having a red mark on my back. It was as if we were under scrutiny the entire time, and we felt certain that all of these people were against us.
Trying to lie our way through the experience didn’t help, either. But Salt Lake is not the type of place you want to go when it comes to being an outsider. The museums and temples and visitor centers all felt molded to perfectly fit an already converted soul. But having little knowledge of the faith, and looking wild eyed at all of the new information was completely overwhelming. It was like driving for the first time, being on edge every second and trying to take in the experience.
Also, and perhaps this is awful of me to say, but I think the Mormon religion is a tough thing to accept. I have Mormon cousins, and I love them, but golden plates? No coffee? Really? It all seems like too much…
Don’t get me wrong, I completely respect people who devote themselves to something, who try to live better lives and gain a greater understanding of themselves through that. But I guess I have yet to see how the Mormon faith enables that kind of spiritual awakening, or whatever it is that improves the quality of life. It seems restrictive and demanding and secretive; elements that make me nervous when it comes to an entire population devoting of themselves.
Tomorrow we are headed to Colorado City, where three different polygamist sects reside. Perhaps this will push me over the edge to understanding and an increased compassion?
